


Second Chances

by Kamaro0917



Series: Second Chances and Bonus Scenes [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Dumbledore you sneaky bastard., Eventual Smut, F/F, Fleur deserved better, Fleur is a gay disaster, G!P Fleur, Girl Penis, Hermione deserved better, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ron Weasley Bashing, Semi-graphic depiction of violence, Slow Burn, Useless Lesbians, Veela Mates, What Have I Done, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 169,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamaro0917/pseuds/Kamaro0917
Summary: Everything changed in the blink of an eye. Harry Potter was dead and the war was lost. The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix go into hiding and Voldemort’s rise to power is complete. In a twist of fate, Hermione finds a Time Turner and makes plans to fix the mistakes of the past. Little does she know, she’s not the only one making the time jump.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Series: Second Chances and Bonus Scenes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816891
Comments: 1123
Kudos: 1785





	1. Chapter 1

Ash and dust filled Hermione’s lungs as she frantically ran through the ruins of Hogwarts castle. The halls that she had called home for the past six years were almost unrecognizable. Huge portions of the stone walls were missing and most of the tapestries and portraits were burned beyond recognition. The marble statues and suits of armor that had once lined the alcoves were all gone, set into motion by Minerva’s impressive charm work.

“Has anyone seen Harry?!” she yelled at anyone she passed as she jumped over crumbled statues and huge chunks of the stone and debris. Everyone just shook their heads and went back to whatever task they were working on before she flew past them. Those who were still able were checking the rubble for survivors or trying to put up wards and protective enchantments. Unfortunately the ratio of able-bodied to incapacitated witches and wizards was not in their favor. 

The Great Hall was full of the fallen, some already gone, some still clinging to life. She couldn’t think about the friends and peers she had grown up with and would never see again. She didn’t have time to stop and mourn, silently vowing that she would honor them later. She sprinted past the giant double doors, not sparing a second glance. Even in the ‘cease-fire,’ the war was still raging, the danger ever-present, just waiting to roar to life again. And their one hope of winning was missing. She was not going to waste a second of what precious time she had left.

_ Where could he possibly be? _ Hermione growled to herself.

She was clutching the Marauder’s Map tight in one hand, her trusty vinewood wand in the other. How Harry managed to get her wand back from Draco during their ‘stay’ at Malfoy Manor would forever be a mystery to her. She was almost certain that Bellatrix had snapped it and burned it… but that was the least of her concerns at the moment. 

She checked her enchanted timepiece. Bright red numbers were slowly counting down the seconds, like a digital Muggle watch. Voldemort had given them one hour to collect their fallen and turn Harry over to him in the Forest. 55 minutes had passed and she had seen neither hide nor hair of Harry since Snape had given him his memories before his death in the boathouse. She thought he was going to the Pensieve in Dumbledore’s office, but when she checked the previous Headmaster’s room, it was empty. The silver Pensieve was still floating in the air so she knew that Harry had been there at some point. 

They were running out of time and she  _ needed _ to find him so they could plan their next steps. Surely Harry wasn’t stupid enough to give in to Voldemort’s demands and turn himself over. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t! So much depended on him and his survival. That’s what the prophecy had said. It was either Harry or Voldemort. Not that she ever put much stock into Divination and prophecies, but now wasn’t the time to ask questions. Too much was at stake.

She slowed to a stop and did a more thorough map check. While she had learned how to expertly navigate walking the halls of Hogwarts while nose deep in a textbook, the debris made the halls into an obstacle course and she didn’t fancy a sprained ankle. And she desperately needed rest. She braced herself against the partial wall, doing her best to ignore the burning in her lungs, the ache in her legs and the fact that she felt completely drained of magic from hours of dueling. 

She carefully flipped through the pages of the map, unfolding various flaps and inserts for any sign of the Boy Who Lived. Nothing. But there was a place that didn’t show up on the map! Her heart jumped slightly, her skin flushed with hope. But that spark quickly died out. They had already been to the Room of Requirement and destroyed Rowena Ravenclaw’s Lost Diadem, so it would be impractical for him to have gone back. Plus Goyle set the entire room ablaze in Fiendfyre… 

She was pulled from her musings when she heard a laugh ring out, breaking the silence around her. Her blood instantly turned to ice in her veins as she heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s triumphant cackle ringing in her ears and her vision swam. Her heart raced as a full blown panic attack threatened to take her. Instinctively her right hand clutched her left forearm, the scar suddenly throbbing. Molly had done what she could to heal the scar but the dagger was cursed and the wound never fully healed. She squeezed the old wound for something to focus on, using the pain to keep her from slipping into the darkness.

Once she had control of her thoughts again, she crouched low to the ground and crawled over to look out one of the new ‘windows’ in the wall she was hiding behind. Her heart stopped when she saw rows of black-robed Death Eaters were assembling in the courtyard. Bellatrix was doing a sort of tap dance on top of a huge block of marble, still laughing maniacally to herself. She clutched her hand over her mouth to hold back her scream when she saw Hagrid, beaten and bloodied and looking defeated. And in his arms he carried…  _ No!  _

She hid in the shadows when she saw people making their way out of the castle. The Light was facing off against the Dark. One last stand. McGonagall stood tall next to Kingsley, both had a fire burning in their eyes that she had never seen before. The remaining Weasleys grouped together, she noted that only one twin was present, clinging to Ron like his life depended on it. Flitwick had a massive gash above his eye but was present, standing next to Slughorn and Madame Pomfrey. Luna, Padma and Parvati, Cho, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were the only students she saw from Dumbledore’s Army. There were a handful of people she didn’t recognize, perhaps family members of students. But overall they were vastly outnumbered.

Her heart clenched when she heard Ginny’s anguished cry when she realized that Hagrid was holding Harry’s lifeless body. 

“Silence, you stupid girl! Harry Potter is dead!” Voldemort shouted triumphantly. “HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!”

A wave of laughter rippled out from the Death Eaters but was quickly cut off when Voldemort went into a monologue about a new order rising to usher in a bright day for magic and wizarding kind. Hogwarts would cease to exist and a new school would be built instead. A place where only the most pure and worthy would study magic. He offered the handful of survivors the chance to join him because he was a benevolent and forgiving god.

Hermione clenched her teeth when she saw Draco step forward.  _ Fucking coward. _ She regretted saving the idiot from the Fiendfyre. She was shocked to see Neville step forward next but her heart swelled with pride when he stood tall and effectively told Voldemort where he could shove his boot. That pride was short-lived when a flash of green struck the young man in the chest and the Gryffindor crumpled to the ground. She barely heard Bellatrix taunting something about “finally joining dear old mummy and daddy.” 

After that it was utter chaos. Flashes of red and green started flying. Some of the survivors grabbed whomever they could reach and Disapparated to safety. Hermione’s logical brain flashed to a passage in  _ Hogwarts: A History _ that stated that Apparating and Disapparating from Hogwarts was impossible. Hermione knew in her heart that this meant. The ancient wards protecting the castle were broken, the school as they knew it was gone. Hogwarts, deemed to be the safest place in Britain, was lost. 

She watched in silent horror when the Death Eaters that were not currently dueling raised their wands and pointed at the remaining group of rebels and in unison shouted  _ Bombarda Maxima. _

The explosion was deafening, almost enough to drown out the panicked screams and cries. The ground shook with the force of the combined spell and a huge cloud of dust engulfed the remaining ruins of the historic castle.

Hermione didn’t have the heart to watch anymore. Even though her Gryffindor nature made her want to stay and fight, she didn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell in this situation. She knew that she couldn’t do anything to fix this if she was dead, too. She was the ‘brains of the Golden Trio’ after all. The brightest witch of her age. If anyone could figure out a way to fix this, it was her. But first, she needed to get out of here before she was caught, tortured and killed. She could hear Bellatrix screaming out “Find me the Muddy!” so it was only a matter of time before she was found.

A small puddle of tears was the only evidence she had been there.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was numb, blank eyes staring at a small blue flame she had created. She sat in the kitchen of an empty house, the Muggle occupants were long gone. Probably just another casualty of the War. The Death Eaters and Snatchers were relentless and unrestrained, killing Muggles for sport while they tracked down the remaining non-Pureblood witches and wizards. From what little news she was able to gather, she was still highly sought after when it was reported that her body was not among the dead from the Battle.

Four months had passed since the fall of Hogwarts. Four months on the run. Four months of absolute solitude with only her nightmares and inner demons as company. For all she knew, everyone she loved was gone. The Weasleys. McGonagall. Neville. Luna… Harry. She had been on the run ever since she fled the Battle, never staying more than 24 hours in one place. 

She stayed mostly in Muggle communities, since there were very few places left in the wizarding world that she felt safe going. Grimmauld Place was out of the question after Yaxley managed a side-along Apparation after their attempt to infiltrate the Ministry. Diagon Alley had been turned into an extension of Knockturn Alley, where Dark objects were now being openly traded and sold without fear of repercussions. Hogwarts...

She felt a sudden wave of anger surge through her body, surprising her out of her daze. It was the first time in months that she felt anything. She couldn’t keep going on like this. Thinking and attempting to strategize had gotten her nowhere. It was time for rash and bold action. Just like Harry… 

“Harry…” She whispered. Hearing herself speak aloud sounded so foreign. Her voice was raspy and hoarse from lack of use. Why talk if there was no one around to listen or respond? She tried to visualize her best friend. His shaggy black hair. His glasses that she had to constantly repair. His laugh and the way his eyes twinkled when he was excited about something. The corner of her lip twitched slightly at the memory of her friend. Not a smile, she didn’t have any of those left to give. She thought a little harder, her brain trying to fill in some details that had grown fuzzy over time. What color were his eyes? Blue? No. Green. They were definitely green. Like emeralds.

“Harry. What should I do? What would Harry Potter do?” She spoke again, then paused, slamming her fist down on the table. “No! What would  _ Hermione Granger _ do?” She could almost see her friend smiling back at her, nodding encouragement.

“I’m going to save the fucking world. That’s what I’m going to do.” When she spoke her voice was steady and full of conviction and determination. For the first time in months she felt a little more like her old self, not this hollow, unrecognizable shell.

“Okay… where to start…” she tapped her chin thoughtfully and an idea popped into her mind. “Back to where this all started.”

She knew it was risky. It was likely that there would be wards and alerts, possibly even curses, but she had no other ideas. She knew that Voldemort’s new ‘school’ was being built in a different location. He didn’t want his vision tainted with the memories of the past.

She took out the Marauder’s Map and unfurled it across the table. As expected, it was empty. She took a deep breath and steeled her resolve, shoving the Map back into her bewitched knapsack “It’s now or never.”

She scooped her flames into a little mason jar and added it to her knapsack. She moved through the kitchen, grabbing random supplies that she thought might be useful. Her eyes swept over the room one last time and with a twist of her heel she disappeared with a pop.

Hermione stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest as the sun started to set, staring at the place where the castle had once stood. It was gone. She clutched her left forearm to break her from her mental spiral and cautiously stepped forward, wand held aloft. 

She was surprised that there were absolutely no wards or protections around the ruins.  _ Such hubris. _ She thought to herself. _Of course Voldemort wouldn’t think that anyone would want to come back here._

She walked through the courtyard, trying to clear her mind of the horrible mental images that kept flashing through her brain as she approached what used to be the Great Hall, now just a crater in the ground. Her heart and head felt like they were about to burst. She fell to her knees, overcome by her grief and she finally allowed herself to cry as she whispered quiet prayers under her breath. She never considered herself to be a particularly religious or spiritual person, relying on science and logic to explain the world around her, but right now? Fuck logic. Nothing made sense. She had also made a promise to honor the fallen. Might as well be now. She muttered everyone’s names. Harry. McGonagall. Fred. Ginny. Tonks. Lupin. It felt like the list was never ending, she thought bitterly. So many lost because of hatred and prejudice. She took a deep breath and said one final name. Despite his faults, she believed that he really meant well… Dumbledore.

Suddenly a piercing cry rang out, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. She jumped to her feet, drawing her wand and looking around for the source of the noise. What she saw made her eyes fly wide open.

A flash of orange, red and gold streaked across the sky, heading right for her. The ball of bright flames morphed into the shape of a giant bird.

“Fawkes…” Hermione whispered reverently, bowing her head slightly as the phoenix landed in front of her.

The phoenix cooed softly at her, taking a few steps forward and pressing its head into her chest.

Hermione felt life surging through her. Her sorrow was still there, but it didn’t hurt quite as bad. She closed her eyes and let the warmth spread through her body, content to just sit in silence. She opened her eyes and looked down when she felt something wet on her arm. The phoenix was… crying?

After a moment, Fawkes looked up, tilting his head down toward her arm, then looking back at her expectantly. He repeated this action a few times before the message sank in.

Hermione stared at him then looked down at her arm and pulled up her sleeve. MUDBLOOD was gone, her skin smooth as it had been before Bellatrix bestowed her ‘gift’ to her. “Of course, phoenix tears have healing properties!” She exclaimed excitedly as she recalled that bit of trivia, “Thank you!”

The bird chittered quietly, as if pleased with itself.

“Why are you back, Fawkes?” Hermione spoke to the bird, excited to have someone to speak to for a change. Even if he didn’t respond with words, there was an intelligence in his eyes that let her know that he understood and he replied in his own way. He looked mournfully over the rubble.

“Yes, it’s sad what happened.” Hermione nodded “If only we could change the past… I’d do anything to bring them back.”

Fawkes snapped his head forward, looking at her with determined stare.

“You have an idea? I’m all ears because I’ve thought about this for months and I have no idea what to do…” 

Fawkes looked over at the ruins again and made a noise that sounded like a bird equivalent of an exasperated sigh. When he looked back at Hermione there was a deep understanding and hope in his beady black eyes. Without warning, he burst into flames.

Hermione jumped back, the heat was more intense than Fiendfyre. She knew that phoenixes burst into flame when it was their time to die, but he looked healthy. After a moment the flames subsided and there was a pile of ash where the mighty bird had been standing not seconds before. She watched with bated breath, expecting a newborn phoenix to rise. Nothing happened. How long did it take for a phoenix to arise again? She didn’t want to touch the ashes but she could feel the wind picking up. 

She got out her jar of blue flames and poured out the contents, not caring that they fizzled away. She reached out and started scooping the ash into the mason jar. She retracted her hand quickly when she felt something solid and cold in the ash pile. She reached back into the ashes and pulled out an object. Something she had never expected to see again. An hourglass encircled by two intricate hoops of gold. She quickly scooped the rest of the ash into her jar and carefully placed it in her knapsack before turning her attention to the magical object. 

Her fingers trembled as she held Dumbledore’s Time Turner. Clever of him to have hidden it with an immortal being such as a phoenix. Forever protected, though it saddened her to think that Fawkes had sacrificed himself to give her this rare gift. 

She quietly examined the object. It was more elaborate than the one that McGonagall had given her in her third year.  _ How naive she had been! She had the gift of time in her hands and she used it to attend extra classes. And what professor in their right mind would give such a powerful device to a teenager?! _ She shook her head at the memory and brought herself back to present, studying the Time Turner with great focus. The outer rings were covered in elaborate designs and runes, but she didn’t recognize any of them. And she knew runes, having practically memorized Spellman’s Syllabary. She would have loved to take months to study it and try to unravel that mystery, but time was not on her side. Waiting would just make it difficult to travel so far back in time and open herself to greater risks.

An hour ago she would have given anything for the opportunity to fix the past but now that it was here, she felt like her body was made of lead. Usually a Time Turner was used to travel back hours, not months. A lot could go wrong. Her plan was to travel back four months to just before the Battle. Perhaps she could get back in time to stop Harry from giving himself over. She took a deep breath and started to adjust the knobs on either end of the hourglass.

_ One turn… _ As she started turning the rings, she heard Dumbledore’s voice in her head, clear as day, warning from her third year.  _ “Mysterious thing, Time. Powerful, and when meddled with, dangerous.” _

_ Two turns... _ Another message from Dumbledore drifted into her mind.  _ “It is important to fight and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay though never quite eradicated.” _ “I’m doing this for everyone. I’m doing this for the world.” She whispered. “I’m going to keep fighting.”

_ Three turns... _ “ _ Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right.” _

_Four turns..._ _“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”_

Hermione closed her eyes and muttered the incantation. If she had been checking the map, she would have noticed a set of footprints approaching her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things to keep track of...  
> « words » = French  
> « italicized words» = Fleur's thoughts with her Veela  
> italicized = thoughts  
> *** break = change in POV (I think the shifts are obvious but let me know if you want me to point out the POV...
> 
> Also, there will be details that majorly diverge from canon, especially Deathly Hallows, but I will point out those changes in the story. In case you missed it, from last chapter the big change was it was Molly Weasley not Fleur who patched them up after Malfoy Manor.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Hopefully it clears up some of your questions you had. This and the next chapter will be setting up the background and then we're full steam ahead!

“OOOFT!” Hermione grunted gracelessly when she felt a heavy weight land firmly on her chest, pressing her deeper into the soft mattress and needly paws of doom pressed themselves into her soft flesh. Her war instincts kicked in and she reached for her wand but before she could react, a rough tongue started licking her cheek. Her eyes shot open when she realized what it was.

“CROOKSHANKS!” She sat bolt upright, her arms wrapping around the dense fluff of her part-Kneazle, her fingers threaded into his thick orange coat. She sobbed quietly into his fur and he patiently let her manhandle him, purring like the engine of the Hogwarts Express. He seemed to sense her distress and did his best to comfort her. Her beloved familiar hadn’t made it out of the final fight and she wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to cuddle him. “Oh, I love you…” she murmured softly and he nuzzled her chin. 

Then reality hit her. 

“Crookshanks, what are you doing here?” She looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was in her dorm, the crimson drapes around her four-poster bed drawn for privacy. _This isn’t right… Where am I? Rather,_ **_when_ ** _am I?_

“Granger! Stop napping and wake up!”

 _That was Lavender Brown’s voice_ Hermione thought. She slowly let go of her cat and looked down.

Never had she been more thankful that she had developed the habit of casting silencing charms on her drapes because the bloodcurdling scream that escaped her throat would have made a banshee proud. 

Crookshanks hissed his displeasure and darted away, disappearing through the drapes. Apparently cuddle time was over and his personal comfort took precedence over Hermione’s.

 _No, no, no, no, no!_ Her mind was racing as she looked over her body. She had set the Turner to _years_ , not months. _FOUR YEARS!_ She started hyperventilating.

“Come on, Granger! The other schools will be arriving soon and McGonagall said we were to assemble in the lawn in advance!” Parvati chimed in and she heard the door to the shared dorm open and close as her roommates scurried away. She heard them giggling about wondering if there would be any cute boys in the foreign delegations. 

Still breathing hard, she poked her head out from between the heavy drapes. Things in the shared dorm room were just how she remembered them. The air hung heavy with incense that her roommates burned, their obsession with Divination used to drive her up the wall. There was no logical or scientific proof that burning plants helped one 'open their inner eye' or whatever rubbish Trelawney spouted. She herself had only lasted a few months in the class before the eccentric professor insulted her and she dropped out. It still burned, years later, that she had this blemish on her school record.

She continued looking around the room, noting the messy chaos on the other half. While her area was tidy and organized, Lavender and Parvati’s areas were covered with articles and clippings of handsome wizards and copies of _Witch Weekly_ were strewn about. She chuckled softly to herself. Things were so simple back then. Or now? She furrowed her brow. ‘Then’ _is_ now...

She cautiously crawled off her bed and inspected herself in the mirror. She looked exactly like she had when she was in her fourth year at Hogwarts, God, was her hair so big? And her body was so... small. She looked so young, her curves and other more feminine attributes wouldn't fully hit her until next year, though she had started filling out some. Not that it really mattered to her. She needed to fly under the radar this year anyway, she had a mission.

Otherwise her appearance was unchanged. She was still wearing all the clothing and accessories she had before her time-jump. That was bizarre but also expected. The point that struck her as truly odd was both Pavarti and Lavender had acknowledged her without even seeing her. Usually when traveling with Time Turners there were two versions of yourself and you had to avoid yourself and no one was aware of your 'current' presence, the one that had jumped back. She smiled at the memory of all the times she had startled Ron when she would randomly pop up in class. But this?

She waved her wand and did a few quick practice spells wordlessly. No, her skill and consciousness were both intact... It seemed like she had somehow been injected back into her 15 year old body. How was that possible?

She clutched the cold metal chain on her neck, pulling out the Time Turner. She wondered if perhaps Dumbledore had fiddled with it. The Deluminator he had given Ron was something of his own creation. Was it that big of a stretch to think that perhaps he had tinkered with other magical artifacts? A problem for another time. She tucked away the hourglass under her shirt.

Next she inspected her knapsack. The Marauder’s Map was still in it, as were Fawkes’ ashes and other odds and ends she had picked up. The whole situation was a mess but she didn’t have time to start dealing with it. She had places to be. Anything she did out of character would possibly tip someone off that she wasn’t the real Hermione Granger. Well, she _was_ the real Hermione, but not the one they were expecting. God, this was getting confusing.

She grabbed a clean set of robes and tossed them over her jeans and shirt and darted out the door. She had always thought that wearing school uniforms under robes was so pointless. Not like anyone would know or be looking.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

« Fleur! Fleur! Fleurrrrrrr! Wake upppppp! »

Fleur groaned, her hand flying to her pounding forehead. She turned over and shoved her face into a soft pillow. _Wait,_ _what the hell?_ Her eyes shot open as she came to her senses. She was lying on a soft bed, her little sister jumping on her lap like an overactive puppy in the form of an 8 year old girl. _That can’t be right…_ Gabrielle was 12 and in France. She looked around the room. It looked like her room in the Beauxbatons carriage. _No… how did she get here? Just a moment ago she was at…_

« HOGWARTS! »

Fleur blinked at Gabrielle’s exclamation. Yes, she had been on her way to Hogwarts, but how did her sister know?

« I see it! Oh it’s beautiful! It’s like a fairy tale! I can’t believe Maman allowed me to accompany you! This year is going to be the best year ever! I can just feel it! And with all these new witches and wizards, maybe you’ll finally find your mate! » Gabrielle babbled excitedly in rapid French as she stared out the window. 

If Fleur hadn’t been so shocked by her current situation, she would have scoffed at her sister’s comment about mates. She knew that definitely wasn’t the case from her past experience. Instead, she blinked again and looked out the window. Sure enough, the outline of the giant castle could be seen through the wisps of clouds. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was there, standing tall in all of its former glory. She rolled out from under her bed covers and started to pace around the room as she tried to get her thoughts in order.

« Oh, Madame is going to be so mad at you! » Gabrielle giggled, her silvery blonde hair swishing as her shoulder shook softly.

« What? Why? » Fleur raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her sister. Her sister looked so small and innocent. Fleur knew it was carefully disguised mischievousness. 

« Well, look at what you’re wearing! I didn’t know you even owned any Muggle clothes! Have you been shopping behind Maman’s back again? How daring! What a scandal, the heir of the Delacour Clan wearing Muggle clothing! I never thought my sister would be such a rule breaker! Good for you, sis! » Gabrielle chattered, her eyes bright and beaming.

Fleur looked down dumbly. Sure enough she was standing there in faded jeans, a nondescript black t-shirt, and dirty sneakers. They were the clothes she had been wearing before her strange time-jump to the past. Instinctively she checked her wand holster on her forearm. Her rosewood wand was strapped in place. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

« Don’t worry, I won’t tell… but you owe me a favor in the future! » Gabrielle giggled.

« Oh you little extortionist. » Fleur chided. Internally her heart was swelling with love. It had been so long since she saw that light in her sister’s eyes and she laughed. It was the first time in months that she had anything worth laughing about. 

Even though she knew her family had been safely hiding in France, she was not with them. She felt guilty that she had not been present at the Battle of Hogwarts and wanted to honor the fallen Order members by continuing the underground resistance efforts. So she had remained in Britain to fight Voldemort’s terror and try to smuggle refugees out to safety. 

She knew that the war and the weight of her choices hung heavy on her family. The uncertainty of not knowing if she would ever return. If their family would ever be whole again. The war had stolen a part of Gabrielle’s childhood innocence, forcing her to grow up so quickly. 

« Okay, you little monster… Get out of here so I can change into my uniform. » Fleur smiled and pulled her little sister in for a bone crushing hug.

« Fleur! Too hard! » Gabrielle gasped for air, wriggling free from her sister’s clutches. « Fine. But remember! You owe me a favor! » The youngest Delacour smirked and stuck her tongue out as she hopped off the bed and flitted out of the room, closing the door loudly behind her. 

Fleur waited until she was alone before she sat down on her bed, trying to wrap her mind around everything. She ran her pale slender fingers through her thick blonde hair as she thought. If what Gabrielle said was true, it was October 30, 1994. That meant she was 17 again! WIthout thinking her hands flew to her chest and gave herself a squeeze. _Huh, just like I remember them…_

She got up and inspected the rest of her body in the full length mirror. It was more than a little unnerving, seeing herself in the past. Her body looked flawless and light, not beaten down and exhausted from carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Except her eyes. Her eyes still reflected how tired she was and the weight she carried within, her heart hardened by loss and war. Their sparkle had faded. Not entirely gone but definitely not as brilliant as it had been in the past. She returned to her bed and flopped down. 

How could she possibly have just gone back in time _four years!?_ One moment she was following some strange call, inexplicably drawing her back to Hogwarts in 1998 and now she was back here? Someone had clearly messed with time and she somehow got sucked into the mess and she was determined to find out who. A million questions flew through her mind. Why would someone do this? What were their motives? Why now? What was so special about 1994? Was something supposed to happen in the Triwizard tournament? And most importantly, what should she do until then? 

She didn’t have any answers for her questions except the last one. In fact, it was the only one that she was certain about. She would have to put on her best acting hat and play the part of a 17 year old student and go through the motions again. She had no other option as she couldn’t give away the fact that she was from the future. The consequences would be dire and anything she did in this new timeline would change the course of the future. Her head started to spin again. What if she didn’t get picked this time around? What if she somehow made it worse in the future? Then again, she didn’t think that the world she remembered could get much worse, so would it actually be that bad if she did mess with the timeline? Maybe that’s why someone attempted such a big time jump and she was just collateral damage? An unwilling stowaway? Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. She had a chance to prevent the wizarding apocalypse and save the world and her sister could have the chance to grow up without fear… maybe this wasn't all that bad?

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Madame Maxime’s voice echoing throughout the carriage announcing that they would arrive in 10 minutes. She rushed to change into her powder blue silk dress, rubbing the expensive fabric between her fingers. She snorted in a very ‘unlady-like’ fashion at how frivolous and petty everything seemed now. But she had to admit, the smooth fabric felt nice on her skin. It had been so long since she had experienced such luxuries.

She was carefully putting her hair up into a tidy bun and adjusting her hat when the ground lurched as the carriage touched down on Hogwarts grounds. With a deep breath she squared her shoulders and pulled on her travel cloak. She paused for a moment to collect herself before opening the door, her nerves were getting to her. Her hand gripped the brass handle until her knuckles turned white. With another deep breath and self-affirming nod, she opened the door and stepped out into the halls of the elegant carriage. 

Her eyes swam with the memories and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. All around her were her old school friends, running around without a care in the world. In four years, almost all of them would be dead. Hunted for their Veela heritage or persecuted because of their ‘blood status.’ After the Battle of Hogwarts on May 2, 1998, Voldemort’s reign of terror quickly spread across Europe. Nowhere was safe, not even the illustrious chateau of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, hidden high in the Pyrenees.

She quickly schooled her expression and tilted her chin high as she strutted down the hall. She could do this. The future depended on her. Failure was not an option.

She quietly assembled with the other students in blue, getting into two tidy rows as they waited to exit the carriage. As she waited, she felt that familiar tug in the back of her mind, the same one that led her to come out of hiding and travel to Hogwarts four years in the future. She shook her head and tried to clear her mind.

She was met by a chilly wind as soon as the door was open. _Merde!_ She had forgotten how miserably cold this place was. That was something she was not looking forward to this year. She quickly cast a warming spell over herself and her sister, who was glued to her side, clutching her hand tightly. She noted to herself that her magical power was untouched by the time jump. She cast the spell both wordlessly and wandlessly. _Well that will make things easier this time around_. She thought, almost feeling bad for the other competitors. Almost. She descended the steps and marched across the lawn, feeling toasty warm with her spell.

She strode across the grass, her head held high, eyes straight ahead, ignoring the hoard of students in their black robes that were openly staring as they passed. If she bothered to look she would see the glazed expressions and in extreme cases, drool. No need to see that again. 

She was calm. She was focused. And then her Veela started thrashing about inside her mind. « _What the hell is wrong with you? Calm down! » _She thought angrily, surprised by the sudden outburst, and willed her inner being into submission. 

It had been a while since her Veela had reacted so intensely to anything. She had worked with her mother and grandmother to achieve harmony with her Veela and by the time she was 19, she and her Veela existed in almost perfect symbiosis, both occupying her mind.

She clenched her jaw and tightened her grip on Gabrielle’s hand as they continued across the grounds and into the stone castle. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was an emotional mess on the inside but on the outside she looked as cool as a cucumber. It took all her self control not to hug Harry every second, just so glad to see him alive again. And not just Harry but Ginny and Ron and her other friends, too. Even her roommate Lavender who had made her life rather miserable. Tormenting her about her hair or her teeth, or teasing her over the fact that she never had a boyfriend. _Because I like girls, you twat!_ She thought to herself. 

Despite feeling the need to just hug everyone, she had to remind herself that she was technically a 19 year old trapped in a 15 year old body. That was just… weird. She tried not to think about it too hard. Nope. Even though she considered Harry, Ron and Ginny to be family, it was still unsettling that she was mentally a legal adult and they were kids. Her hands were to stay firmly at her sides or folded across her chest. 

She was standing in a sea of black robes waiting for the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to arrive. She cursed to herself. This was a waste of time, time she could be in the library! Besides, in a few years none of this mattered. No one would remember the Triwizard Tournament. They had bigger issues to worry about. Like surviving the Dark Lord. She would much rather be using this time to research the markings on the Time Turner and trying to figure out what had gone awry. 

“There! Look! There’s something in the water!” Someone yelled and excited whispers rippled through the crowd. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron’s fangirling over Viktor Krum and made a point to look away when the Bulgarian walked by. She did not want to deal with that again. She had accepted his offer to the Yule Ball because she thought it was 'what girls were supposed to do' not because she felt any romantic interest in the man. In fact, it was going to the Ball with Krum that helped her start to realize that men just didn't do it for her. In her fifth year she finally admitted to herself that she had developed a bit of a crush on Katie Bell, one of the Gryffindor Chasers, and the two dated a little in secret for a short while. It was a short, awkward romance to say the least.

Her mood quickly deteriorated further when Beauxbatons arrived. She hadn’t been aware of all the blatant ogling last time. _Ugh, Veela thrall,_ she thought to herself. It was disgusting and insensitive to the young women. She knew that Veela had no control over their thrall, it was just part of who they were. She wanted to yell “Yes, Fleur Delacour and a number of other girls present are part-Veela. Get over it you moronic brutes!!” But she bit her tongue and punched a purple-faced Ron in the shoulder to take out a little frustration. He didn’t seem to notice but she heard Harry snicker softly. 

Despite herself, she chanced a look at the blonde as the blue-clad students marched along. In some ways she felt bad for her. Being treated like an object all the time certainly would grate on anyone’s nerves. But then again, the blonde seemed to view everyone with the same respect as the dirt under her ridiculously tall heels. So she didn’t feel _that bad._ In fact, she was starting to feel annoyed. 

The more she looked, the more irritated she felt. Sure, she was poised and more beautiful than anyone she had ever seen but that attitude! Hermione could overlook a lot, she was friends with Ron after all, but even she had limits. 

And God did that woman complain! She complained about everything. The weather. The food. The subpar standards and teaching methods. Hermione clenched her fist tight to calm herself down, trying not to get too wrapped up in the memories. 

She knew that in time Fleur would become more tolerable. She showed a surprising courage and skill, becoming an invaluable member of the Order of the Phoenix. And she was smart and witty and they had many intellectual conversations together when their paths crossed. The two had found common ground in that they had spent most of their lives being undervalued or underestimated by their peers and colleagues. People saw Fleur as just another pretty face who got what she had because of her body, not her merits. And Hermione for her lack of magical heritage. It was a pity that she lost contact with her after Remus and Tonks’ wedding when she, Harry and Ron left on their hunt for Horcruxes. In a different universe they might have been friends if the world hadn’t gone to shit. But at this time, she wasn’t particularly interested in being treated like an insignificant insect. 

“Come on Hermione, stop staring at the pretty girl…it’s time for the feast” Harry whispered quietly in her ear.

Hermione flushed, grateful for the cover of dark. She hadn’t been staring! She was thinking… deeply. Also, she hadn’t told Harry yet that she fancied witches, that was a conversation they would have far in the future. While she knew older Harry was okay with her being gay, she wasn’t sure how younger and more immature Harry would take it. She cursed herself for being so obvious. 

“Oh shove off.” She pushed him with her shoulder and followed the other students into the Great Hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... Fleur needs to rethink priorities... haha.


	3. Chapter 3

Fleur was chatting with her classmates and ‘new’ friends at the Ravenclaw table. She made sure to sit next to Cho Chang, who she remembered from her first go around at Hogwarts. Fleur bristled when she saw 'Mad-Eye Moody' sitting at the staff table, she couldn't do anything, lest she give herself away. But otherwise Fleur found her conversation with Cho to be rather pleasant, but as time went on, her Veela started getting restless. 

Her English had significantly improved in recent years and most of her accent had faded, so she made a point to lay it on thick when she spoke English. She knew that no one in Hogwarts would notice but she didn’t want to raise suspicions amongst her Beauxbatons peers who would be expecting a heavier accent. Besides, as much as she hated it, she could use it to her advantage. The over the top French accent helped her develop a ‘silly, cute, air-headed girl’ image and the other Champions wouldn’t take her seriously. Then she could blow them all away while they were too busy underestimating her. It was a tactic she was very accustomed to using.

She tried to stay focused on the conversation at hand and not the irritating Veela in her mind but that was becoming increasingly difficult. The Veela was making it known that she was not to be ignored. She quickly ended her talk with Cho and turned her thoughts inward. 

_« Seriously, you menace, what do you want?! » _she snapped.

 _« Look, look, look! » _the Veela responded excitedly. 

Fleur rolled her eyes but did as the Veela suggested. Anything to make her calm down. Her crystal blues scanned the tables. 

_« I don’t see what you’re so excited about! We’ve already been through this! What’s so…»  _Fleur stopped mid sentence as her gaze swept across the Gryffindor table. _Oh… that’s… different._ She felt warmth radiating through her body, filling her with a sense of calm tranquility. She felt… Whole. Complete. Everything seemed to disappear around her and she only had eyes for one. Even though the girl's back was to her, she recognized the bushy brown hair. Hermione… Hermione Granger. 

The Veela purred softly, content. « _Mate. »_

Fleur blushed at the thought. She knew the awkward teen would become something of a legend, she had already made a name for herself. ‘The Golden Girl’ as the Daily Prophet called her. She was smart and witty and had a stubborn streak that rivaled her own. They had had heated debates over late night cups of tea at Grimmauld Place. Hermione challenged her in ways no one had before. 

But she was a child! Even though there was physically just a 2 year age difference, that gap was more obvious so now. It made Fleur cringe to think about. Despite her appearance, she was a grown woman thinking about a 15 year old. That was just not right at all! 

She shook her head to rid the unpleasant thoughts and turned her attention to other questions she had about the situation. Why was her Veela suddenly claiming that Hermione was her mate? A mate can only be identified once both parties are of age. She certainly didn’t remember having this reaction the first time around. She would have to write to her grandmother and ask her to clarify. 

She was on the verge of obliviating herself when she pulled from her thoughts by a sharp jab to her ribs. She glared down at her sister who was fixing her with a broad grin. 

« What? » she huffed, irritated. 

« Who are ya staring at? Hmmm? » the younger Delacour wiggled her eyebrows.

« For your information I was not staring! And it’s none of your business! »

« Fine… whatever you say… can you get me more soup? » Gabrielle pushed her empty bowl toward her sister. 

« There’s soup right there. » Fleur pointed out. 

« It is empty. And as alpha it is your duty to provide! Would you deny your little sister? » Gabrielle pouted. It was almost comical the way she was sticking her lower lip out, quivering it slightly. But it worked. Gabrielle knew how to play Fleur like a finely tuned fiddle.

« Fine. I’ll get you soup. But only if you put that lip away. Maman would be appalled! »

« Good thing you’re not Maman then. Now… Soup, please! »

Fleur rolled her eyes and got up, ruffling Gabrielle's hair on the way, ignoring her protests. 

She barely registered walking across the Great Hall, her feet seemed to be moving on their own accord. She blinked and suddenly she was standing at the Gryffindor table. _Oh, merde, merde, merde!!_ She cursed internally, panic rising in her chest. She noticed people were starting to stare at her. She quickly schooled her face back to a cool neutral expression and cleared her throat. 

“Excuse me… are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione froze when she heard the soft French lilt. _What the bloody hell was Fleur doing here?_ This definitely didn’t happen the first time. Maybe her presence was throwing off the timeline more drastically than she expected. Thinking back she had acted no differently when the schools had arrived… _So what changed?_

She slowly turned around and looked up, her eyes meeting soft crystal blue. “Oh… uh…” She stammered, her ability to speak and form coherent sentences suddenly failing her. 

Gratefully Harry stepped in. “Sure. Here you go…” he nudged the bowl closer to Hermione. “Hermione, aren’t you going to help?” He prompted the bumbling mess. 

Hermione snapped out of her daze and grabbed the bowl, all but shoving it into Fleur’s hands “Right… yeah, here. It was good.”

“Are you sure you ‘ave finished? I would not want to be a trouble.”

“No, no trouble at all… we’re finished with it.” Hermione quickly stated with an awkward smile.

“Zat ees very generous.” Fleur watched the young witch, looking at her expectantly. When Hermione didn’t respond or elaborate, she went on “I am Fleur. Fleur Delacour.”

Hermione had to catch herself from saying “I know.” 

Fortunately (possibly unfortunately) Ron chose this moment to regain use of his mouth “Hi! I’m Ron by the way. Ron Weasley!” He quickly blurted out eagerly, his voice several notes higher than usual, and shoved his hand forward. Not to be put off by Fleur’s lack of response, he continued babbling. “I’m Harry Potter’s best friend! That’s him, right there.” He pointed around Harry, who waved awkwardly. “And that’s Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of our class! Don’t be fooled, she’s not usually this quiet. Usually you can’t get her to shut her yap!”

“Enchantee, ‘ermione…”

Hermione shivered involuntarily at the way Fleur said her name. God she had forgotten how much she liked it. The way she ghosted over the ‘h’ and rolled the ‘r.’ _Shit, shit, shit… stop being a gay disaster!_ _What was going on?_ She knew that she was immune to Fleur’s thrall… _Oh, sweet Morgana’s left tit, why was she behaving like this?_ She smiled up at the alluring Frenchwoman, crumbling under the intense gaze that Fleur was giving her, unable to do much else. Her usually sharp tongue seemed to have chosen this moment to go on an extended vacation. 

“Oi, you’re new to Hogwarts! You probably need a tour, ya know, lots of halls to get lost in. I’d be happy to show you around!” Ron offered eagerly, his face was now a color that would have made an eggplant blush.

Hermione’s smile quickly fell when she noted Fleur’s raised eyebrow, her lips twitching in poorly disguised annoyance, possibly disgust. Sure, sometimes Ron could be a complete arse that didn’t know when to cut his losses, this moment being one of those times, but he was trying to be helpful. She bristled at the idea of anyone being mean to her friends. She was still very protective of her family. 

“I am fine wizzout, zank you for ze offer. I would not want to be a bozzer.” Fleur replied simply, clearly put off by the redhead. In her defense, it might have been the fact that he had a glob of Yorkshire pudding on his cheek. “Well, I should be going zen. Zank you for ze bouillabaisse.”

Hermione turned around in her seat and glared at her peas and mash. It annoyed her how haughty Fleur was back then. _Now!_ How haughty she was _now._ But she couldn’t help but be a little curious as to why Fleur had approached them. Probably to get a look at Harry. 

She glowered quietly, ignoring Ron rambling about how Fleur had come to talk to him and ‘they don’t make ‘em like that at Hogwarts.’ His second comment grabbed Hermione’s attention.

“You are such an arse, Ronald!” She whacked him on the shoulder.

“Oi! What are you on about!? It was a compliment to her! Ya know, what Dumbledore said about forming international relations and whatnot! I’m just being a good host!”

“Objectifying women is not a compliment!”

“Sounds to me like you’re just jealous of her because she’s so pretty and has nice... objects.”

“I… ugh! Ronald, you are such an arse!” Hermione growled, so exasperated by her friend that she didn’t even care that she had repeated herself. 

“See? Jealous…” Ron snickered.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Hermione exclaimed loudly. To make her point she jumped to her feet and glared down at him “I AM NOT JEALOUS OF FLEUR DELACOUR!” 

The Great Hall was completely silent. You could have heard a pin drop on the fifth floor. 

Hermione didn’t realize how quiet the Great Hall was at the time of her outburst, everyone had tuned in for a classic “Hermione’s verbally beating the crap out of Ron” drama. She prayed that no one, ‘no one’ being Fleur, heard that. A soft giggle from the Ravenclaw table was all she needed to know that wasn’t the case. She didn’t have the strength or courage to turn around and look. She was absolutely mortified by her behavior.

She quickly sat back down in her seat and dropped her head to the table with a loud thud. “God, if you’re up there, just strike me down right now please…” she muttered into the slab of hardwood

“Who’s the arse now?” Rob taunted in her ear. 

For once, Hermione had absolutely no comeback. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Gabrielle was beside herself. She was laughing so hard that no sound was coming out of her mouth. She was the only one who could get away with that. The rest of the Beauxbatons students all were staring at Fleur, dreading the blonde’s reaction. She had a fiery temper that they all knew to avoid at all costs. The smallest offense sometimes triggered her, setting off a classic Delacour tirade. After seven years, it was practically trademarked. 

For her part, Fleur did a marvelous job at not completely flipping her lid. She had just gotten back to the table and passed Gabrielle the bowl of soup when Hermione’s declaration rang out loud and clear through the dining hall. 

She stood there, frozen in place. Part of her was angry. _How dare her mate say that?_ The other part was hurt. _Why would her mate say that?_

Her cerulean orbs were staring intently at the back of Hermione’s head, boring holes through the bushy brown curls, searching for answers. _What had she done to merit such a hostile outburst?_ She had been nothing but polite and civil. Even with the drooling eggplant! She suddenly felt rather small about herself. _Was her mate rejecting her?_ She had heard that it had been known to happen before and icy dread flooded her veins at the thought. She simply tilted her chin up proudly, banishing her doubts, and laughed it off. 

“And zey call her ze brightest witch of ‘er age? I zink I would like a second opinion on zis matter. Clearly she knows nozzing of what she speaks.” She spoke loud enough that she was certain Hermione would hear the jab. It was petty and immature but she didn’t care. Her feelings were hurt. 

She felt the tension at her table release in one collective, audible breath, but she was glad to see that it seemed that everyone else was staring at the brown haired witch across the room. _Right, she wasn’t a champion yet._ Aside from her peers, no one else knew who she actually was. But they would soon find out, she smirked to herself. 

It was at this moment that Dumbledore stood up and saved the situation before it could get more awkward. “Right… Now that you all have enjoyed your supper, I have a few more comments before we adjourn for the evening. To our esteemed guests…” He looked over to the Slytherin table where Durmstrang had taken up residence and then over to the Beauxbatons students sitting with Ravenclaw house “We sincerely hope you feel as comfortable as you would in your respective institutions while staying with us. However, while you are here you will be expected to adhere to our rules and standards of conduct. Please note that the Forbidden Forest is just that. Forbidden. You will receive your class schedules on Saturday and I suggest you take time to familiarize yourself with our halls this weekend. And do mind the staircases. They can be devilishly tricky. For everyone, tomorrow’s classes are cancelled so you may properly have time to weigh your decision to participate in the tournament or for our younger students, you may show your support to the prospective Champions. Classes will resume as normal on Monday...”

There was a loud groan as the doors to the Great Hall opened and an obnoxious squeaking noise filled the room, effectively interrupting Dumbledore’s speech. All eyes swiveled to look for the source of the noise. 

Filch was dragging what looked like a cart down the wide center aisle. From the sound of it the front left wheel needed grease and was causing the unpleasant sound. On the cart was a tall object covered in a velvet shroud. 

Fleur knew it was the Goblet of Fire sitting on a pedestal. Still, her heart raced a little with excitement and anticipation. She wondered if the Goblet would choose her again this time. Would it sense that she was older and more powerful now? Would that help her or hurt her?

Dumbledore just smiled pleasantly as he waited for Filch to arrive and deposit the cart. “Thank you, Mr. Filch.”

The grouchy man simply nodded and turned back, leaving the Hall. 

“Wonderful!” Dumbledore turned to address the students again “Without further ado, I present the Goblet of Fire!” He waved his hand and the velvet cover disappeared, along with the cart, revealing the crudely carved wooden chalice sitting on a marble stand. “Anyone who wishes to submit themselves to the tournament need only write their name on a piece of paper and deposit it into the Goblet by this time tomorrow night. Do not do so lightly. This represents a binding magical contract and if chosen, there is no going back without suffering painful consequences. As has been mentioned before but I feel the need to emphasize the importance of the rule, the Ministry has declared that for their own safety, no one under the age of 17 is allowed to submit themselves to the tournament.” 

He paused when there was the expected outcry. He simply raised his hand and the boos and disgruntled comments immediately ceased. With another lazy wave of his hand, the Goblet was filled with a vibrant blue flame. “As of this moment, the Triwizard tournament has begun. Now off to bed, pip pip!”

Fleur stood and got into line with her sister and the other students in powder blue uniforms. In unison they marched out of the Great Hall, completely silent except for the steady clicking of heels and boots on the stone floor. She stared directly ahead, not sparing a second glance over to the lion’s den.

This was definitely going to be an interesting year.


	4. Chapter 4

Sleep avoided Hermione that night like a troll avoided bathing. Despite the soft, fluffy mattress she used to love, she found herself tossing and turning, unable to turn her brain off. Her mind was so full, racing between thoughts, trying to process everything and come up with a plan. She needed a strategy. And there were so many questions to be answered.

The most immediate question was ‘What to do about the Goblet?’ She knew that the age line didn’t care about physical age. Fred and George had clearly demonstrated with their attempt at an aging potion. Perhaps it was emotional age? That was unlikely, but if so, technically she was 19 in mind and spirit, so she might be able to submit her name to the Goblet and try for her chance to be the Hogwarts Champion. If she did, then that would give her the chance to stop Voldemort from rising again in the cemetery! 

On the other hand, she didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself, assuming she was chosen. Having two ‘underage’ Hogwarts Champions would be a scandal with unforeseen consequences. Maybe she should just allow things to play out how she remembered them and only make small changes when necessary? Could she do that? Could she sit back and watch as Barty Crouch Jr. impersonated Alastor Moody all year? So much depended on the decisions she was about to make. It was overwhelming. 

She curled her fingers into Crookshanks’ fur, absentmindedly petting him as she thought. He had forgiven her for hurting his ears earlier and was curled up next to her side, ears twitching as he slept. She found great comfort in his warm and rhythmic purring.

As the sun started to creep over the Scottish Highlands, Hermione rolled out of bed and quietly transfigured her clothes into exercise-appropriate attire. After spending over a year on the run, quite literally, she had energy to burn and lack of exercise made her feel restless. Even if this body wasn’t conditioned for exercise, it wouldn’t hurt to get into shape. She tightened the laces of her sneakers and adjusted the long-sleeve outer shirt before sneaking out of her room.

She ran around the Black Lake, simply enjoying the burn in her legs and fresh air. When so much was out of her control, at least she could do this. She breathed deeply as she ran. It was so quiet. Peaceful. She took her time, jogging at a leisurely pace. It took her almost an hour to make the four mile lap around the Lake. The Giant Squid came to visit her at some point, staring up from the inky waters, watching her curiously before lazily waving a tentacle and slipping back into the depths.

She stopped on the sandy beach near Hagrid’s hut to stretch before returning to the castle. She started doing yoga poses, a combination of stretching and meditation would help her steady her mind. A soft voice behind her pulled her from her thoughts.

“Ah, Miss Granger, fancy seeing you here.”

Hermione screeched and her war instincts kicked in. She grabbed her wand, pointing it at the voice. She immediately dropped it when she saw Dumbledore leaning against a tree, staring out across the calm waters.

“Sorry, Headmaster, you gave me a fright.”

Dumbledore hummed “My apologies, Miss Granger. That was not my intent. A beautiful morning for a run. I never understood why Muggles insist on physical exercise, but I suppose I can appreciate wanting to seek peace and solitude.”

Hermione nodded. “Can I help you with something?” She hadn’t meant her question to come across so stiff, but in the back of her mind she was bitter. This was the man that sent three teenagers on a life threatening mission to track down the remaining Horcruxes with no leads or anything useful to go on. Then again, his death was rather unexpected, who was to say that their Horcrux hunt had been his original plan. 

“Ah, yes in fact. I was hoping to catch you alone. It has come to my attention that your classes are no longer a challenge to you.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. How did he know? She and Dumbledore had maybe three one-on-one conversations in her entire time at Hogwarts. This definitely didn’t happen before. Aside from her 3rd year, she stuck to the preset lesson plans and class schedules given to her.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Dumbledore continued, unphased by her suspicious look. “Your professors have told me that you are… performing on a much higher caliber than expected of someone your age.”

“I suppose that’s true. I do like a challenge. But I’m afraid that I still don’t understand.” Hermione grit her teeth but tried not to show any reaction. She could feel Dumbledore's intense gaze watching her every move.

“Let me explain. Rather, let me show you.” He pulled out a scroll of parchment from his robe pocket and handed it to her.

Hermione took the paper and unrolled it. “This is a new class schedule… for seventh years...”

“Indeed. I believe you can handle the Advanced classes, don’t you think?”

“But I haven’t passed my O.W.L. Exams yet…” 

“I think you and I both know you will with flying colors. I’ve always expected great things from you.”

Hermione was dumbfounded. She knew Dumbledore wasn’t one to follow the rules, but what did he mean by his comment? Had he been paying attention to her academic progress? She nodded slowly as a wide grin spread across her face. “I… I think that’s brilliant, thank you, Headmaster.” 

“Excellent. I’ve taken the liberty of informing your other professors and have had a proper set of school books delivered. They will be on your bed when you return to your dorm. Good day, Miss Granger.”

Hermione nodded and looked down, carefully studying the schedule as his footsteps disappeared up the hill. 

At least she wouldn’t be completely bored shitless this year. Even still, she knew all of the information that she was going to ‘learn’ but it was better than nothing. What troubled her was that Dumbledore had been giving her a very knowing look, his blue eyes twinkling. Also, why was the Headmaster delivering a new class schedule? That was usually something the Head of House handled. Did he know something? Yet another mystery to solve. She shrugged it off and hurried back to her room to get ready for the day. 

As promised, there was a new stack of books waiting on her bed. She hopped in the shower and grabbed her new Charms text and made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

People were already starting to congregate, cheering whenever someone put their name in. So far she had seen Cedric Diggory and Angelina Johnson submit their names, along with a few Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students she didn't know. The air buzzed with excitement and anticipation. Hermione rolled her eyes and read her book as she nibbled a piece of toast. She didn’t bother giving Fred and George the stern talking to when they burst in waving their vials of aging potion victoriously. Nor did she look when they were carried out of the Hall, both sporting bushy white beards.

She was deeply engrossed in her reading about the theory behind the Protean charm, something she would find extremely useful the next year when trying to coordinate Dumbledore’s Army. In her mind she was mulling over ways that she might adjust the charm to make it more effective and powerful. She didn’t hear someone approaching her.

“Bonjour, ‘Ermione…”

“Delacour…” Hermione said stiffly, not looking up. She didn’t trust her reaction if she met those dazzling blue eyes. It was bad enough that she could smell the delicate perfume. Lavender, vanilla, and something earthy… like a meadow of wildflowers and hay? _Strange._ She closed her eyes to steady herself, her heart was starting to race inexplicably. Things got worse when she felt Fleur’s breath on her neck as the blonde leaned over to read over her shoulder.

“Ze Protean charm? Zat ees razzer advanced, non?”

”It is…”

“But you are fourz year, non? Zis ees not expected of one so young.”

Hermione’s temper flared and she dropped the book on the table with a heavy thud, glaring up at the insufferable Frenchwoman that was still invading her personal space. “For your information… Some of us want to get ahead! It’s called ambition!”

“Do you not zink of me as ambitious?”

Hermione grit her teeth. She knew that Fleur was definitely driven and prided herself on her drive and merits. But at the same time, she wasn’t ‘supposed’ to know that yet. So she bit her tongue and responded curtly “Not all of us are graced with such looks that allow us to skate by. Some of us have to work for it...” 

A flash of hurt crossed Fleur’s face for a brief moment. Hermione knew that was a low blow. She knew that Fleur was actually rather self conscious of her Veela heritage and constantly second guessing herself. Then again, Fleur’s comment from the night before still stung, the embarrassment still fresh, causing her to lash out a little more than she probably should.

“You zink I am not capable? I am ze future Champion for Beauxbatons.” 

Hermione furrowed her brow at how self-assured Fleur seemed to be. _Did Fleur know something or was she just that cocky?_ She held her cards close to her chest, not willing to give away her hand. And she definitely did not want to show any interest in the beautiful blonde. She sat up straight and gave a noncommittal reply “Really? What makes you think that?”

“Eet ees simple. I am ze best. I shall prove eet to you.”

 _Oh, you arrogant, cocky git!_ Hermione thought. _I’d love to knock you down a peg or two…_

Fleur didn’t wait for Hermione to respond. She straightened up and turned on her heel, striding across the room, so gracefully that it looked like she was floating. As she reached up to drop off her name in the Goblet, she turned and caught Hermione’s eye, making sure that the fiery brunette was watching.

Despite her frustration, Hermione couldn’t help but watch Fleur strut down the aisle. _Damn those stupid uniforms!_ She glared as she watched the haughty blonde made to deposit her slip of paper but her jaw dropped almost to the table when she saw what Fleur did next. The blonde shot her a smug look and then _winked_ at her before dropping her paper into the blue flames.

Hermione watched, her face was a mix of shock, awe and something else she couldn’t quite determine, as the blonde approached her again. This Fleur was so confident and it was… sexy. _Oh, God! No, no, no, don’t think that_. She gulped when she felt a cool finger press under her chin and close her mouth that she didn’t realize was open.

“And when I am chosen, I really give you somezzing to be jealous of.” With a light giggle, Fleur continued her march out of the Great Hall, her head held high in triumph. She didn’t even cringe when she heard Hermione call her a “French tart” under her breath.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur was in great spirits the rest of the day. She spent time with Gabrielle wandering the grounds and enjoying the relatively mild weather. Her Veela was upset with her at how she had acted toward her mate, but at the same time, she was not going to allow herself to be insulted and just roll over.

After thoroughly exploring the castle, the sisters were laying on the grassy knoll by the carriage, curled up in a blanket to fend off the chill. Both were nursing mugs of hot chocolate, both on their second serving. At home they were usually denied excessive sweets. And definitely not before dinner time. But what their parents didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt.

« So you put your name in? »

« But of course, Gabrielle. You were still asleep when I did. Besides, it would be inappropriate not to. I came for the chance to compete! I hope to be able to bring pride and honor to our school and prove to the world what I am capable of! »

« Aren’t you scared? I’m scared for you. I know you’re strong, but I read that people have died in this tournament before! »

« I assure you, I have no intention of dying. Sorry, you’re going to be stuck with me for a very long time. » Fleur smiled and bopped her sister on the nose.

« Fleurrrrr! » Gabrielle giggled, going slightly cross-eyed. « By the way, what was up with you and Bushy last night? Did you spit on her plate or something? She looked pissed! »

« GABRIELLE! » Fleur admonished her baby sister's language.

« What? She did! » Gabrielle huffed defensively before switching tactics and flitting her eyelashes innocently to skate over the situation. It wasn't her fault that adults talked around her like she wasn't there! 

« You are the worst, my little monster of a sister. And for your information, I did nothing wrong. I was a complete gentlewoman. And do not call her ‘Bushy.’ She cannot help her hair, just like you and I cannot help our looks. It is unfair to judge someone on appearances alone. »

« Fine… then I will call her Prickly. Because that’s her personality. »

Fleur raised an eyebrow but she couldn't exactly argue that point.

« No? What about Grumpy? Or better yet… Booksy! »

« Keep this up and I will make sure you never have hot chocolate again. »

« Why are you being so defensive? What’s it to you what I say about her? It’s not like you to care…» Gabrielle shrugged and quickly drank the rest of her mug before Fleur could make good on her threat. When she finished, she looked up to face her sister, her upper lip covered in whipped cream. A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes « Fleur… you don’t like her, do you? »

Fleur stiffened « No, how could you think that? You know as well as I do that it is not possible. She is a child still. »

« I did not say she was your mate… you can like someone without them being your mate. Just look at Maman and Papa. » Gabrielle watched her sister closely, her scrutinizing gaze indicated that she was far from convinced by Fleur’s weak argument. « Whatever. It’s not my problem if you’re in denial. Come, it is almost time for the feast and the Champion selection! » 

Glad to have a break in the conversation, Fleur stood and swished her wand, banishing their blanket and used mugs to her room in the carriage. In her timeline she had almost mastered wandless and wordless magic, so it felt strange to hold her wand again. She held her sister’s tiny hand in hers as they walked up the lawn toward the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was absolutely silent, everyone watching anxiously with bated breath, waiting for the Goblet of Fire to make its selection. Dumbledore stood at the center of the room next to the pedestal.

The Goblet was quiet, then suddenly roared to life, the flame shifting from blue to a deep magenta that grew to almost twice as tall as the blue flame. A piece of parchment shot high into the air and the flames settled back to cool blue. 

Fleur did not recognize it. She had used a piece of Beauxbatons stationary, round with little ridges, like a flower. She felt her sister stiffen and grip her hand tighter as they watched Dumbledore snatch the paper out of the air and read it.

“The Durmstrang Champion is… Viktor Krum!”

The support shown for the Quidditch star was just as irritating the second time around. The entire Slytherin table cheering and clapping, some even smacking the table like a drum. Around the rest of the Hall other “Krum groupies” echoed the sentiment. 

Fleur rolled her eyes and watched Krum make his way down the long Hall and disappear into an adjacent room.

Moments later, the Goblet came alive again. This time the magenta flame shot out a blue slip of paper. Fleur couldn't help herself. She leaned forward, watching with wide eyes as Dumbledore caught the paper midair. This was it.

“The Champion from Beauxbatons… Fleur Delacour!”

She breathed a deep sigh of relief. She didn’t care that her applause was significantly more reserved than the reaction Krum got. Her icy blue eyes flashed over to the red table and when blue met brown, she flashed the smuggest smirk she could manage and mouthed “Told you so.” She could almost feel the heat of anger radiating off by Hermione, which only made her grin more.

She made her way toward the front of the Hall and shook hands with Dumbledore and Madame Maxime before making her way to the Trophy Room.

While she waited, she inspected the trophies on display. Last time she remembered being somewhat intimidated by them. Now she just giggled to herself at the obvious power play. Besides, Hogwarts only had 1 win more than Beauxbatons, 63 to 62 respectively. She barely glanced over when she heard the door open again, revealing a handsome young wizard in yellow trimmed robes. Cedric Diggory. So far things were shaping up exactly like last time. She held her breath, wondering if the door would open again and there would be a 4th Champion.

She squeezed her eyes closed when she heard the door open and quiet, unsteady footsteps descended the stone stairs. She heard Cedric ask Harry if he had come to get them to bring them back to the Great Hall. She looked over and caught his eye. The boy looked just as terrified and small as before. His already pale face had lost all color and he looked like he was about to throw up or cry. She gave him a soft smile, trying to be reassuring. That poor boy had been through so much. It really wasn’t fair.

No, this time would be different. This time she knew better. This time he had her in his corner and she decided that she would do whatever she could do to help him. Besides, she was still a member of Order of the Phoenix, even if she didn't look like it. She had made a vow and she was going to honor that oath.

“I protest!” Madame Maxime’s voice echoed down the hallway, her accent was much thicker in her emotional state. “Zis boy cannot compete! ‘E ees too young!”

“I agree, if I had known that Hogwarts was going to bend the rules, I vould have brought a larger delegation” Karkaroff drawled with a slight accent.

“And now eet seems zat ‘Ogwarts will ‘ave not one but two chances at ze apple, non? Zis is ‘ardly fair and believe me, Beauxbatons will not be participating een any future Tournaments eef zis ees ‘ow ze British operate!”

The room soon became a shouting match between the school Heads and the tournament officials. Dumbledore simply stood in the corner and observed the madness.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves!” Fleur’s temper flared and she was unable to hold in her frustration. The room went deathly silent, all eyes on her. “You are so worried about glory zat you would overlook zis boy’s safety?”

“Zat ees enough, Mademoiselle Delacour!” Maxime’s eyes flashed dangerously, a clear sign for her to stand down, but Fleur held her ground.

“Non. Eef ‘e claims to not ‘ave put ‘is name een, zen I believe ‘im. Use ze veritaserum eef you ‘ave doubts. We should be worried about who would put ‘is name een...” Fleur continued, knowing that she was drawing too much attention to herself, but she couldn’t help it. _So much for flying under the radar,_ she thought. She knew the sacrifices and trials that faced the Boy Who Lived and she wasn’t going to sit by and allow him to be treated like a criminal.

“Mmm, if I was allowed to distribute points to our foreign schools, I would give Miss Delacour merits for her cool use of reason and logic.” Dumbledore spoke softly. 

“‘Ow can you joke at a time like zis?” Maxime’s voice was practically dripping venom.

“I assure you, Madame, it is no joke. I am merely stating that Miss Delacour makes a valid argument. Trust is a rare and valuable gift.” Dumbledore smiled jovially, shooting Fleur a subtle wink “Regardless, Harry has no choice. His name rose from the Goblet and he must compete, lest he forfeit the contract.”

“Erm, Professor, what happens if I don’t compete?” Harry chimed in, speaking for the first time since he denied entering the tournament. 

“Well, my boy, the penalty is death! A long, slow and painful death! To dissuade cowardice!” Ludo Bagman chirped happily.

It rubbed Fleur the wrong way. That man was way too excited about this but she knew he wasn’t behind the plot against Harry's life, so she held her tongue. She was already in hot water with her Headmistress.

Harry gulped loudly and his shoulders curled in. He glanced over to Fleur who seemed to be the only person in the room who had any interest in his well being. 

After receiving a vague ‘clue’ about their first task to be brave and prepared for anything, the champions were released back to the Hall but the group of adults stood around arguing a little longer. 

Fleur didn’t care to stay and listen, she knew the outcome and nothing she said would change the fact that there would once again be four Champions. The Hall was empty, all the other students dismissed for the evening.

She chased after the dark haired boy, tugging on the sleeve of his robe to get his attention “‘Arry…”

“Fleur?” Harry looked at her, his bright green eyes full of surprise. “What were you doing back there? I mean, it’s not that I’m not grateful for your help and all but this isn’t your problem.”

Fleur shook her head “Oui, zat ees true. But I will not sit by while no one will ‘elp when you ‘ave done nozzing wrong.”

“But you heard them, we cannot help each other. And besides, we’re competition. Don’t you want to win for your school?”

“Some zings are more important zan winning. Eet ees ze right zing to do. I will not ‘elp with ze tournament, as you say, we are bozz Champions. But I can ‘elp you indirectly. Eef you want. But eet must be private, ozzerwise people will zink we are cheating, non? Can you keep eet a secret?”

“I still don’t understand… no one else seems to believe me but you do?”

“Eef eet ees not too bold of me to say… but fuck zem. Zey are idiots.” 

Harry stilled, his eyes somehow got even wider. “Why are you doing this?”

“Let’s just say zat I believe you and truly want to 'elp you. Now, what do you say? Do you accept my offer?” Fleur held her hand out to him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione stayed awake waiting for Harry to return. The Gryffindor common room was quiet. Harry was taking an extraordinarily long time to return. _What was he doing?_ She paced nervously, chewing on her nails. Her parents would tear her a new one if they knew she was treating her teeth in such a manner. She was mulling over what she would say, how she might comfort him and tell him everything would be okay… she remembered all too well how practically the entire school turned against him and treated him like a cheat and a criminal. Even Ron. She bristled at the memory. So far the stubborn redhead was showing that this time around would be no different, sulking moodily in the corner before going up to his room.

She looked up when she heard the portrait swung open. She jumped over the couch and launched herself into Harry’s arms, wrapping him in a big hug.

“Harry!” She exclaimed, holding him a moment before letting go to get a good look at him. When she did, she was astounded by his reaction. He didn’t look lost and beaten down like last time. In fact, he looked… hopeful.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Hermione asked cautiously, still a little confused by his demeanor.

“Well, I suppose as okay as I can be, all things considered. Honestly, why can’t I just have one normal year where no one is trying to kill me?”

Hermione nodded, the boy was a magnet for trouble and misfortune. Sadly, it only got worse. Unless somehow she managed to correct the course of the future. “I know… you’ve endured so much. It’s really not fair. But I’ve got your back! I won’t let you face this alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’ve got…” Harry trailed off, catching himself before he admitted his shaky alliance with the French Champion “You. As long as I have you, I won’t be alone. I'll be alright.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow but dropped it when she saw Harry shake his head. “Okay. Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Just be ready for Ron to be a right git. He was in a foul mood all evening since the sorting.”

Harry nodded sadly “Yeah, I expected as much. Thanks Hermione. I think I’m going to turn in, I’m bushed.”

Hermione paused before an idea struck her, one of her theories she wanted to check. “Hey Harry, before you turn in… Can I borrow the Marauder’s Map? I wanted to… uh… check something…”

Harry laughed, “Oh Hermione, you don’t need to make up excuses. We both know you’re just gonna use it to sneak out to the library. Wait here, I’ll go get it. Be back in a jiffy.”

“Yeah, right… you caught me…” Hermione sighed, grateful that Harry wasn’t expecting an explanation. Perhaps her reputation as being a bookish know-it-all had its perks. She fiddled with a loose thread on her cardigan while she waited. 

Minutes later she was back in her room, her drapes closed and holding two fully functional Marauder’s Maps. _Oh, that’s interesting..._


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione spent the rest of the weekend in the library, slowly making her way through all the texts she could find about Ancient Runes. By Sunday night she had ruled out Egyptian and South American being the origins of the strange symbols on the Time Turner. 

Each night she spent time reading her new textbooks. She was about two months behind the class, so she needed to know where they were in the curriculum so she could plan accordingly. At least that was the excuse she was telling herself. 

In truth, she was afraid to sleep. Her dreams had become horrific nightmares, her subconscious forcing her to relive the terrors of War. Just another symptom of her post traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD… that’s what the Muggles called it. She had read about it in one of her parents’ medical digest magazines one summer. Her night terrors, anxiety, aversion to loud noises and crowds, flashbacks, moodiness and lashing out. It was all related and she knew that being at Hogwarts was a huge trigger but she had no choice.

When she had been on her own, she managed to brew a basic sleeping potion that allowed her to have short dreamless naps. It wasn’t ideal but it got her through. That wasn’t an option now, she couldn’t exactly be brewing sleeping draughts in the common room for no reason. And Snape watched his classroom like a hawk. 

Monday morning started with a three hour Potions block, an hour lecture followed by a two hour long practical. _How wonderful,_ Hermione thought sarcastically. She half wondered if Dumbledore was just trying to make her miserable. 

Snape was worse than usual, acting as if her presence was personally offensive to him. She was certain that if allowed he would have gladly deducted points from Gryffindor for each breath she took. She knew that Potions wasn’t her strongest subject so Dumbledore had probably bullied his way to get her into the class. Snape made sure to point out each and every flaw and mistake as if to point out how out of place he thought she was among the older students. 

To make matters worse, a certain Beauxbatons student was in the class, arriving in a whirlwind of blue just before class began. Fortunately, Hermione had made a point to arrive early and had found a table with Cedric and Angelina Johnson. They were equally surprised to see her suddenly at their table but accepted her. 

Hermione did her best to focus on the class but she could still sense Fleur’s presence in the back of her mind, heard her quiet muttering in rapid French to one of her French classmates. She felt more flustered than usual, and not because of the level of difficulty of the class or the presence of the witch she was trying to avoid. It was because of what happened at breakfast earlier that had put her in such a foul mood. 

After her morning run, Hermione had made her way to the Great Hall for food, just as she would any other morning. When she got to her usual seat she found a plate with a dainty pastry sitting there on a blue ceramic plate. A French tart. Even though no one was around, she knew _exactly_ who it was from. She could practically see Fleur’s smug face. The French blonde was definitely retaliating, taunting her for calling her a French tart last Friday. _Oh that cheeky, cocky, insufferable, arrogant little witch!_ Her blood boiled and she tossed the pastry aside, scooping out eggs and toast onto her plate instead. Ron made sure the pastry didn’t go to waste. 

Her cheeks still burned at the memory and she took her frustration on a poor bubotuber root, slicing it rather roughly. Of course Snape deducted 5 points for her manhandling of the small purple stalk. Hermione grit her teeth when she heard a distinct giggle coming from the back of the classroom. 

All things considered, she finished her potion with a few minutes to spare. While she waited for Snape to come grade her work, she put away her unused supplies and started scrubbing her cauldron clean, putting in a little elbow grease to help her work through some of her frustrations. 

“You are ambitious indeed.” Fleur’s soft voice surprised Hermione but she kept scrubbing, ignoring the other woman.

“Zis Professor… ‘e ees a real… ‘ow do you say… ‘ard butt?” Fleur continued, trying to start a conversation. 

“Hard arse.” Hermione corrected, not looking over at the blonde who was magicking away the mess in her own cauldron. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Non. I am simply cleaning, just as you. Even Champions must clean up zeir messes.” Fleur hummed softly to herself,gently goading the brunette.

Hermione bit her tongue, not taking the bait. _Of course Fleur wanted to rub it in. What a prideful, arrogant, haughty, piece of..._

“Why ees eet zat you scrub with a clozz like zat? You do realize we ‘ave ze magie, non?”

“My parents taught me the value of hard work. I guess I just like doing things the hard way. It makes me feel accomplished.” Hermione shrugged. 

“Clearly,” Fleur clicked her tongue and sent her clean cauldron back to the shelf with the flick of her wand. 

Hermione kept scrubbing but she realized the blonde hadn’t moved away. “Did you need anything else?”

“Non.”

Hermione huffed “okay then. I hope you enjoy awkward moments of silence then as you watch.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I like watching you stubborn yourself to dezz.”

Hermione stopped her scrubbing, hand frozen mid-swipe of her rag “oh… uh…” she stammered awkwardly. 

“I am joking. You take zings far too serious,” Fleur giggled, her voice playful and light. “Eet ees too easy to ruffle your feazzers.”

“Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Hermione resumed her scrubbing. 

“What ees zat supposed to mean?” 

“Well, you’re part-Veela, aren’t you?” Hermione mentioned nonchalantly. Even though she wasn’t looking, she could feel Fleur stiffen.

“‘Ow… ‘Ow did you know zat? Zat ees razzer private and I ‘ave not told anyone ‘ere.” Fleur’s tone was suddenly dangerously cold. 

“Call it a hunch. People talk.” Hermione tried to cover her slip up. She wasn't supposed to know that Fleur was part-Veela. Not yet at least. She dared to look up, instantly regretting it. Fleur was glaring daggers at her, her nostrils flaring lightly as she seethed. 

“Well, I must say I am disappointed. I zought you were smarter zan zat. I did not take you for one to subscribe to silly rumors. I would ‘ave zought you of all people would know not to judge a book by eets appearance. Per’aps I zought wrong.” Fleur twisted on her heel and stalked off without a second glance. 

Hermione felt a little bad for offending Fleur. But she reasoned it was better this way. She couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted. Too much depended on her. She had to figure out how to help Harry without giving away too much. Dealing with Ron being an absolute arsehole and the fallout between her two best friends. She had to research the Time Turner and why she had been stuck in some sort of alternate universe. She was getting increasingly worried about Harry’s dreams. They were slightly different this time around. Harry mentioned that there was another person with Voldemort and Barty Crouch, Jr. A mysterious woman's voice in the background. On top of this she had to keep up with her daily duties. Her new class load was sure to provide an insane amount of homework. She could easily do it, probably in her sleep, but it was still time consuming. 

She didn’t have time to let feelings for the Frenchwoman cloud her judgement. _Wait. Feelings? No, definitely not._ She turned back to her cauldron and started scrubbing with renewed vigor. 

After class she hurried to the Great Hall for lunch, grateful to be out of the dungeons. She sat with her back strategically facing Ravenclaw table. 

“Oi, what’s got your knickers in a bunch?” Ginny grinned, jabbing Hermione in the shoulder. “Your hair is… particularly poofy today.”

“Nothing, just a three hour Potions block.” Hermione shrugged as she grabbed a sandwich with one hand. The other subconsciously moved to her bushy curls, trying to smooth them down. 

“Blimey! That sounds horrid! Wait… it’s Monday. You don’t have Potions on Mondays.” Ginny furrowed her brow as she scooped soup into her mouth. 

“Errr, right. Yeah, Dumbledore gave me a new schedule. He wanted to challenge me to the advanced classes.” Hermione had completely forgotten to mention her schedule change with her friends. She had been too busy in the library last weekend. 

“Wow! Well, slap me silly and call me Morgana. Advanced classes? With the 7th years?”

“Yeah, it's a lot to take in but I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“I mean, I knew you were brilliant but wow, Hermione! Did you take your O.W.L.s early or something?”

“No, I’m frankly not sure why Dumbledore is putting such faith in me… I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.“

“Eh, you’ll be fine.” Ginny nodded, piling more food onto her plate “Besides, you are the brightest witch of your age. Hell, maybe generation!”

“You know I really hate that nickname.”

“Yeah, but it’s just so easy to tease you…” Ginny smiled and turned to greet Harry. 

Hermione felt a pang of guilt, Ginny’s words reminded her of what Fleur had said. Maybe she had been a little harsh. Admittedly, the blonde had done nothing wrong. If anything she was being surprisingly friendly. Not the cold and aloof student Hermione remembered from last time. She never thought she would ever utter the words 'Ron was right' but she couldn't deny she had been an outright arse. _Shit, I really should apologize_. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur stomped towards the Great Hall after class. At least people seemed to have the sense and self-preservation instinct to jump out of her way when they heard her heels clicking furiously on the stone floor. The sea of students parted and pressed themselves against the stone walls, giving her a wide berth to pass. If she weren’t so frustrated she would have noticed that for once no one seemed to be ogling at her with glazed eyes. Alas, her thoughts were firmly stuck on one person.

She was so frustrated that she slipped back into her former teenage mentality and felt no shame in having what equated to a temper tantrum. She just wanted to whine about how unfair everything was. She huffed and dropped into her seat at the Ravenclaw table, glowering at her empty plate as thoughts swirled around her head.

 _Why did her mate have to be so damn stubborn!?_ What had she done in a past life to deserve such treatment, such indifference? Had she kicked a baby unicorn or something?! From what her grandmother told her, Veela and their mates often experience an instant connection. Affection just blossoms from there as they grow together, becoming stronger over time as their bond develops. Clearly this was not the case for her, as her mate seemed to want to have nothing to do with her for whatever reason.

She had decided against writing to her grandmother about her situation, it might raise questions that she couldn't answer and hint at the fact that she was from the future. Besides, she had developed a theory as to why her Veela had suddenly identified Hermione as her mate. Because in her timeline, Hermione would be 19, so that's how her Veela thought of her. It made too much sense, there was no other way her Veela would identify a minor. So she would just wait until Hermione grew up. Three long years... worth it for the lifetime they might have together. Assuming she managed to save the world from future disaster.

She hadn’t spoken much with the Golden Girl during her first time at Hogwarts, she had no reason to. She only started really talking to Hermione after the brunette’s 5th year after the Battle at the Ministry and the next summer before Tonks and Remus’s wedding. But they never got to explore a deeper friendship, that apparently would have turned into courting if time had allowed. Unfortunately, the Trio disappeared on some secret mission after the wedding was crashed by Death Eaters. Fleur hadn’t seen her since that fateful night. 

Ugh, she just wanted her mate to grow up already and become the bright young witch she remembered and had been working on a friendship with. Until then she would have loved nothing more than to ignore this immature version of Hermione who seemed to take pleasure in tormenting her. But she knew that wasn’t possible. It was very hard for a Veela to deny their mate once that individual had been identified. Still, Hermione was making it rather difficult to be nice to her.

She had established that she would make no moves toward formal courtship until Hermione was of age, at least she could try to be friendly for the time being. But no, it seemed the infuriatingly stubborn brunette was not going to have any of that and shut down her attempts at friendship. Then again, maybe it was better this way. She really couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted. She needed to focus on the Tournament and helping Harry. But her Veela wasn’t letting her mind wander far from thoughts of Hermione, compelling her to try to get closer to her mate. _Ugh, stupid bird brain!_

She growled quietly and picked at a sandwich she hadn’t realized she had grabbed. She was too annoyed to eat it. 

« Wow, Fleur, I haven’t seen you this frustrated since Jean-Claude pulled that prank with charming your shirts to... »

« Tcht! Evangeline! I thought we agreed never to speak of that incident! » Fleur growled at her fellow part-Veela, regarding the brunette beauty sitting next to her. She had forgotten how jealous she was of her friend’s hair. While hers was smooth, straight, and silvery blonde, Evangeline DesJardins sported effortlessly perfect chestnut curls that provided just the right amount of volume. Her bright hazel eyes were a nice contrast. 

The two had been roommates since their first year at Beauxbatons and they shared an almost sisterly bond, even after graduation. Fleur tried not to think of what the future held for the young woman. She remembered cradling her best friend’s body as she took her last pained breath. She hid her tears in a poorly acted sneeze and quickly recomposed herself. 

Evangeline was one of the few people outside her immediate family that she had let past her walls. One of the few who looked past the cool facade of the esteemed heir of the Delacour Clan and saw Fleur for who she was. Fleur remembered her younger self wishing and hoping that they were mates. There had always been a strong connection and they had even tried dating for a while. But when it became clear they weren’t destined to be together they cut their losses and decided they were better off as best friends.

« Sorry, I forgot. But seriously, you look downright miserable. I know how much it affects you, all these silly boys tripping over themselves for you. But it’s not your fault they have such weak minds. »

« It isn’t that. » Fleur sighed and picked up a new cucumber sandwich and served herself a bowl of chilled mint soup, deciding it was time she actually ate something rather than pick aggressively at the bread like she had been doing. « I just… it is a big adjustment, being here. And the tournament is stressful. »

« Well, ain’t that the truth? This school is dreadful and we’ve only been here a few days! How will we ever survive the next 9 months!? Oh! Get this! Word has it that Yvette and Amelie are _finally_ dating! Can you imagine? Those two have been pining uselessly over one another for yearrrrrs! »

Fleur had never been more grateful that her friend was such a gossip. She wasn’t really listening to her friend, just offering small nods or one word responses, but it helped distract her from her issues. Particularly the bushy haired brunette that just walked in for lunch. 

« So, how was your first class? » Fleur questioned once Evangeline ran out of juicy news. 

« Fine. Did you know this school considers ‘flying’ to be a class worthy of 7th year curriculum!? Not that I’m complaining, I got to play around for two hours! » 

« Lucky! I got stuck with three hours of Potions! It was dreadful! Watch out for that Professor, he is a real…» Fleur paused, trying to remember the phrase “‘Ard arse.” She finished in English.

The two girls fell into light conversation, soon joined by Gabrielle who gave a dramatic retelling of all the adventures she had that morning. Apparently she had slipped out of the carriage, rather than attend her studies like she was supposed to. She had stumbled across the kitchen and met a rather excitable house elf who wore bright colored Muggle clothing. His name was Dobby and he gave her a chocolate biscuit. 

Fleur reprimanded her sternly but lovingly, threatening to send her back to France if she refused to behave. Gabrielle pouted and protested but agreed to stick to her schedule in the afternoon.

Her conversation with the two was almost enough to distract her from her horrible morning. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to throttle these two and/or smack some sense into them, then I'm doing my job.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but also important for some Veela lore... which I made up... because there's not a lot to go on. There will be more Veela history/heritage/lore later on.

After lunch, Fleur made her way to Charms class. She was rather looking forward to this class. Charms had always interested her and was most likely to hold her attention. Though she also liked Potions as a topic because it kept her hands active, even if the content was well below her current skill level. 

Fleur got to class early, taking advantage of the fact that most students were still eating lunch. The halls were relatively quiet and she had a brief reprieve from her ‘adoring fans’ that she would rather be rid of. 

After years of exposure, her male peers at Beauxbatons were finally more or less immune to the effects of her thrall. Now she had an entire school of hormonal boys chasing after her like puppies. _Again._ Except puppies were cute and adorable and the flock of boys that trailed after her was anything but cute or adorable in her opinion. She was already to the point of wanting to hex the next boy who asked her on a date into the next year.

To make matters worse, she felt her Veela pumping out an even higher concentration of her natural pheromones, trying to get her mate’s attention. It clearly wasn’t working and she wished she could do something but her Veela was being rather persistent. While her pheromones were different from her thrall, when combined it was a dangerous mix for anyone other than her mate, turning them from zero to horny in three seconds flat. _It was going to be so much harder this time around,_ Fleur grumbled to herself as she entered the empty classroom. 

With a frustrated sigh she sat down at a table and pulled out her text, mindlessly flipping through the pages while she waited. She paused when she came across the Protean charm that she had seen Hermione reading the other day. She blinked when her epiphany smacked her upside the head. Potions hadn’t been a fluke. _Hermione Granger was taking 7th year classes._

 _Why, Great Goddess? Why are you doing this to me?!_ She groaned loudly to herself. She just wanted a break. Was it too much to ask for?

Then she thought about the situation, furrowing her brow deeply as she thought about how different this time was already. She creased her brow so tight that she was certain she would have a new worry line by the end of class. _Something was definitely off._

She didn’t have too much time to reflect on the issue because she heard the soft ringing of the bells, indicating that students were to start to head to their afternoon classes. Before long the classroom was filling in with other students. 

As expected, Hermione came hurrying in but thankfully the lecture hall style set up of the room provided the opportunity for them to sit far away from one another. They both avoided eye contact, but Fleur noticed that at least Hermione had the decency to act a little remorseful, at least that’s what her body language indicated. But the proud Gryffindor made no move to apologize for earlier.

Fleur was grateful that they were working on wordless magic. Having already mastered wordless casting, she barely listened to the tiny Professor give instructions, emphasizing the need for intent and wand movement, since proper pronunciation played no factor in wordless magic. At least she had an excuse not to speak nor did she have to hear Hermione’s soft voice that, despite everything, called to her like a sweet song.

 _UG_ _H!_ She growled to herself and cast her charm a little more aggressively than she meant to. The piece of paper she had intended to fold into a crane burst into flame instead. She quickly cast _Aguamenti_ to extinguish the smoldering paper.

Professor Flitwick was sure to point out her skill at casting such difficult charms with ease. It seemed that he thought that she had cast _Incendio_ rather than the charm that she had intended. She was not going to correct him, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself _._ She would have preferred that he said nothing, as she saw Cedric give her an interested look. _So much for not showing her skills before the First Task_ … She blushed and thanked the professor and went back to quietly practicing her spells.

After Charms, Fleur hurried back to the Carriage during the short break to grab the books she needed and then made her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. After everything she had been through in the War, she thought it was a little redundant to say the least. She would have to work hard not to curse the imposter professor. The man needed to be locked into Azkaban, not allowed to roam freely, posing as an esteemed Auror and professor. But a ‘student’ randomly cursing a teacher was a surefire way to reveal herself. So she clenched her jaw and kept up her act, biding her time. 

What surprised her was that this lesson plan was different from what she remembered from her first time. Today they were discussing the Three Unforgivable Curses. The professor demonstrated the Curses on a tailless whip scorpion. Including the Killing Curse. It made her beyond uncomfortable. Her head was throbbing from her Veela’s furious protests, screaming about danger.

 _« No shit » _ she thought to herself and the Veela balked and made an angry noise in response. 

But what came next completely astounded her. Moody had them all get into a line and he performed the Imperius Curse on each of them. Their task was to try to break the Curse and resist. She couldn’t believe that this was sanctioned. Did Dumbledore actually know about this? She knew the man worked in mysterious ways, but this was almost too much.

She watched as her fellow peers were forced to do absolutely ridiculous and embarrassing things. Tap dancing on a desk. Making chicken noises. Singing “God Save the Queen.” In any other situation it would have been hilarious to watch someone do any of these things. If they weren't Cursed to do so. But with the exception of the students in green-trimmed robes, no one was laughing. Losing one’s free will was nothing to laugh about. It bothered Fleur how interested some (not all) of the Slytherins seemed to be in the lesson. Seeing someone demonstrate a curse that otherwise would be a one-way ticket to Azkaban seemed to make them feel empowered. And not in a good way.

Fleur’s heart clenched when she saw Hermione get cursed. Her Veela was screeching in her mind, telling her to step in and protect her. She knew she could not interfere and it turned out that she didn’t really need to. The young Gryffindor managed to throw off the curse after a few seconds, only clapping her hands a few times before she regained control of her body. That was impressive indeed and she couldn’t help but feel proud of her witch. Hermione was extremely powerful, that she already knew, but seeing it demonstrated like this? It made Fleur’s heart flutter. Then she remembered what a righteous prick the witch had been earlier and the smile fell from her face slightly.

And then it was her turn, Fleur steeled her nerve and fixed Moody with a piercing gaze, standing tall and defiant. She noted that he gave her a rather obvious sneer. 

“Well, what have we here? A Veela, hmmm?” His voice was gravelly and harsh, not trying to hide his disgust. She couldn’t believe the open display of bigotry and prejudice. It made her want to retaliate even more but she clenched her fists at her sides, digging her nails deep into her palms to try to distract herself.

“I ‘ardly see ‘ow zat matters. What I am or not ees of none of your concern.” She replied, her voice neutral and indifferent. She would not give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction from her.

“Mmm.. you’ve got a spirit to you. But like any beast, spirits can be broken.”

“Are you going to talk me to dezz instead? Just curse me already.” Fleur raised her chin, in challenge.

“It would be my pleasure.” Moody grinned and raised his wand. “ _Imperio!_ ”

Fleur felt a serene warmth spread through her limbs and her mind grew hazy. It felt very pleasant and she felt herself relax. She heard Moody’s voice, but it was distant and foggy, as if he was talking through a pillow or a dense cloud. She couldn't tell if he was speaking aloud or if it was just in her head. But from what she knew of the Curse, she knew it was the latter.

“Veela… go kiss Davies over there.”

Fleur felt her head turn against her will and regard the boy in question. She had actually gone to the Yule Ball with the Ravenclaw Chaser in the previous timeline. She felt herself take a step but thankfully her Veela stepped in. She would not, _could not,_ show affection to anyone other than her mate. 

“Non. I will not.” Fleur spoke defiantly, though she was not sure if the conversation was in her head or if she was actually speaking aloud. That currently didn’t matter to her. She was too focused on breaking the ludicrous command.

“Do it, Veela!” Moody’s voice barked and she felt another wave of euphoria as he increased the power of the Curse.

Fleur shook her head. “Non. I do not want to kiss zat Davies boy.”

“You insufferable creature! Fine. Then tell me who you would kiss. Tell me who has the heart of the Delacour heiress.”

Fleur’s eyes widened and her Veela shrieked angrily.

 _« How dare he!? » _They said in unison, completely synced up and in agreement.

She was thankful her Veela blood prevented her from divulging any secrets regarding Veela heritage or mates. This situation fell firmly into the latter category. 

Veela magic was an ancient and powerful force that worked in mysterious ways. There were still many aspects of her blood and heritage that Fleur still didn’t understand. If she had stayed in France instead of joining the Order, she would have studied her heritage under the guidance of her grandmother. However, since she did not, her knowledge was rather superficial. What she did know was that her natural instincts to survive and protect were extremely strong, especially when it came to family and loved ones. In certain situations her magic would react automatically without her having to think about it. Situations like this. 

It was extremely rare for a Veela to find her true mate. A Veela was not incapable of loving someone other than her mate, but the relationship just wouldn’t be nearly as intense. The connection between the two wouldn’t intertwine the souls like they would with a mating bond. Her own parents were an example of this. They were not true mates but they still loved one another. In fact it was so rare that most people just assumed that the mating bond was a thing of myth and if a Veela was seen in public with someone, it was just assumed they were friends or lovers rather than mates. This was a belief that the Veela were not going to correct any time soon. Why put unnecessary targets on their own backs?

The identity of true Veela mates and mated pairs were closely guarded secrets, often never spoken about outside of the Clan. It was for everyone’s safety and protection. It made them easy targets. If the wrong people found out the identity of a Veela’s mate, especially someone who knew the true nature of the mating bond, the consequences could be grave and often ended in tragedy. 

Once she identified her mate and the mate accepted the bond, a Veela would do anything to protect their mate. As a result, it made them easy to manipulate. A captured mate was the ultimate bargaining chip. A fully-bonded Veela would give her own life for her mate without second thought. Unlike what was written in textbooks, a Veela would not die automatically if her mate were to perish. However, the heartache of the loss was so great that it was not uncommon for a Veela to succumb to her grief. But death was not guaranteed. Her grandmother was an example of this. Her mate had died in the First War, but Adeline Delacour's love for her family and Clan helped her pull out of her grief.

However, thanks to Veela magic, the mate’s identity remained secret. Only the Veela or the mate could divulge the truth and they had to do it together or at least with both parties present. It was similar to how wizards would distinguish Secret Keepers to guard particularly sensitive information. Except there was no binding spell for the Veela. It was just how things were.

“‘Ow dare you try to manipulate me like zis! I will never tell you ze identity of my one!” Fleur’s Veela roared inside, threatening to burst forth. She could feel the back of her neck start to tingle. It was a sign that feathers were threatening to burst out soon if she couldn’t get herself under control. She knew her eyes were probably changing color as well.

“Fleur…” a soft voice filled her head. “It’s okay…”

Fleur closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to try to calm herself, focusing on Hermione’s voice. She felt the prickling of her neck start to ease. She was grateful the feathers hadn’t broken her skin, otherwise she would molt in the middle of class as she transitioned back to her human form. That would have been mortifying.

When she opened her eyes again, Moody was staring at the two girls, his mechanical eye shifting between Fleur and Hermione. His face was unreadable. It made Fleur extremely uncomfortable. 

Without giving Hermione any attention, she just glared one more time at Moody before stalking back to her place in line. Her mind was clear again now that the Curse had been broken. From the expressions of her classmates, at least her part of the ‘conversation’ between Moody and herself had been entirely out loud. She noted that Roger Davies was looking more than a little disappointed. 

“Well there you have it folks. In this entire class only two people were able to break the Imperius Curse! Well done you two. 50 points to Gryffindor and 50 fake points to Beauxbatons because I can’t actually give you points.” Moody congratulated her and Hermione, though Fleur could tell it was superficial and insincere. The rest of the class politely clapped. 

Since Fleur was the last to go, Moody released them from class and she hurried out as quickly as she could. She did not like the way Moody had been looking at her. Knowing what she did about the man, if he reported back what Hermione was to her, even if a hunch, that could be extremely dangerous for them both. 

It cut her heart deep when she heard Hermione’s voice calling for her as she all but ran down the hallway. But she knew she couldn’t be selfish anymore. Her urge to protect Hermione far outweighed the feelings she had been trying to deny. She couldn’t risk it. She wouldn’t put Hermione’s life in danger.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's turn for a full chapter.

Hermione couldn’t deny that it really bothered her that Fleur was ignoring her. She still hadn’t had the chance to make amends after Monday’s class, but it seemed that Fleur was giving her the cold shoulder, not giving her the chance to apologize. Then again, she had really stepped in it during Potions class, so maybe she just needed to give the French girl some space. 

After all, that’s what she had meant to do in the first place. She needed to focus her energies on the bigger picture, the important tasks at hand. A girl took lower priority on her ever-growing list of issues. Even if that girl was Fleur Delacour. At least that’s what she kept trying to tell herself. 

But she couldn’t deny that she felt a growing attraction to the Frenchwoman. Despite her efforts to ignore it, it had hit her hard and it had hit her fast. She couldn’t help herself from sneaking glances at the blonde in class or in the Great Hall, but every time she looked, Fleur was engaged in a conversation or activity. 

She also felt increasingly annoyed, almost irrationally so, whenever she saw the group of boys trailing after the blonde beauty. Which was all the time. All. The. Time. She wanted to smack them all upside the head and send them packing. But she knew Fleur could handle herself so she just scowled after them and buried her nose in whatever book she was reading instead. 

By the end of the week she was something of a mess. 

She wasn’t sure if it was her sleep deprivation or just general depression from her PTSD, but her exceptionally logical mind went straight out the window. Her thoughts started to darken and she began to doubt herself. Why on earth would Fleur ever be interested in someone like her when she could literally have anyone she wanted. There was a constant line of hopeful suitors tripping over themselves to ask her out. Besides, what could she possibly offer the Heiress of the Delacour Clan, France’s most powerful and influential Veela clan? 

To Fleur, she was just some bookish teen with exceptionally bushy hair and a loud mouth. At this point time there wasn’t really anything special about her other than being a know-it-all and one of Harry Potter’s best friends. It wasn’t until next year that she really started to make a name for herself and prove what she was capable of. 

Fleur on the other hand was a goddess walking among them. A goddess she would never admit she was pining after. But she was. One-hundred-and-ten-percent.

Besides, unless she found a way to stop Voldemort’s rise to power, she didn’t exactly have a particularly promising future.

So Hermione did what she did best. She went to the library. Thankfully this really wasn’t out of character for her and no one suspected anything. She spent all of her free time tucked away in the dusty shelves, trying to distract herself from thinking about the Veela. 

When her search of ancient runes came up empty, she started researching time travel. There were many fascinating theories and first hand accounts but so far she was coming up empty on anything remotely close to her situation. 

Hermione was actually grateful when Friday finally came around. She was looking forward to the weekend. She had already finished her homework assignments, so she planned to spend as much time as possible in the library. But she had also secured a vial of dreamless sleep potion and she wanted to get some well deserved rest. 

All that was left to do was survive her three hour long Defense Against the Dark Arts practical that afternoon and she was off to dreamless land. 

Today’s topic… dueling. The classroom had been rearranged. The tables had been removed and two full length dueling stages occupied the space instead. 

Hermione couldn’t help but grin to herself. With her war experience she knew that she could duel any of her peers with one hand behind her back. While she couldn’t show off too much, she was expected to perform at 7th year level or close, so she could afford herself a little slack.  _ This would be fun.  _

Moody walked between the 24 students with a bag of colored marbles. That way the duel pairings would be randomized. They would all take turns, each pair dueling for three rounds, up to 10-minutes per round while the others watched and critiqued. If there was not a clear winner before the end of the round, the winner was the one with the highest scores based on grading criteria the observers were filling out. Whoever won two out of the three rounds was the duel winner for the pair. 

Hermione reached into the bag and pulled out a royal blue marble with gold and silver swirls inlaid in the smooth surface. It was actually rather pretty. For some reason it reminded her of Fleur. She quietly cast a reverse-Gemini charm she had developed. Instead of an object multiplying into identical replicas, two identical objects would become attracted and try to merge into one. This way she could just follow the tug of the marble in her hand. 

“Well, zis will be interesting indeed.” Fleur said stiffly as she approached Hermione, holding her own blue marble between her pale fingers. Her tone was calm and cold, her head held high giving off the air of indifference. Just how Hermione remembered her from the first time. 

“Only time will tell.” Hermione replied casually. 

“You seem razzer confident, non? You zink you can ‘andle me?” Fleur raised an eyebrow as she looked her over. “Do not zink zat I will go easy on you because of your age.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes, glaring back defensively “I would expect nothing less. But I warn you not to underestimate me.”

Fleur scoffed “right zen. As I believe ze phrase ees ‘bring eet.’” And with that challenge she bowed and turned to walk to her side of the dueling stage. 

_ Cocky git.  _ Hermione rolled her eyes and returned the bow before turning and taking 10 paces before turning and assuming her starting position.

Hermione watched Fleur closely, noticing that the Frenchwoman uses a combination of spoken, wordless, and sometimes wandless magic. She moved with such grace and fluidity. How one could duel in 4 inch heels and stay upright was an absolute mystery. She couldn’t help but be impressed. It was more of a dance than a duel and it was absolutely mesmerizing, up until the first incoming hex, which Hermione deflected with ease. 

As much as she hated it, she chose to cast her spells aloud, even though she was more than capable of wordless magic. She was supposed to be in her ‘4th year’ after all. Wandless magic was a different story and it made her appreciate Fleur’s skills even more. She had never been on the receiving end of Fleur's fighting. The Frenchwoman was a formidable opponent even, at this age. Hermione knew she would only get more deadly and skilled with time.

The two women exchanged wave after wave of offensive spells and defensive maneuvers. Hermione was glad she had started building up her physical stamina because the strength of Fleur’s attacks was actually starting to wear on her more than she cared to admit. It seemed her 15 year old body just didn’t have the strength needed for dueling and she tired more easily than the 19 year old version of herself. 

Before the end of the first round, she managed to disarm Fleur with an unexpected, silent  _ Expelliarmus _ . 

She was surprised to feel the rosewood wand tingle in her hand and emit a small burst of colorful sparks when she caught it midair. She didn’t know much about this particular wood, other than it was rare and very temperamental against anyone other than its witch or wizard. Ollivander had told her that he didn't use it when she had talked with him at Shell Cottage while they were recovering from Malfoy Manor. 

The next round went to Fleur when she cast a spell that Hermione had never seen before. It was an impressive show of magic to say the least. It started with a single burst of light. As Hermione was focused on deflecting that beam, three bursts of light shot up from the ground and bound her in place, rendering her completely immobile.

The third was deemed to be a tie. Somehow the 10 observers at their dueling stage had scored them equally. 

After their duel the two women separated without another word and moved to opposite stages to watch the remaining duels.

As the class dismissed, Hermione rushed to catch Fleur and stopped her just as she reached the hallway. The other students just moved around them as they exited the room. “Fleur, wait! Can I have a minute of your time?”

Fleur barely tilted her head in acknowledgement of her presence. “Fine. A minute. Make eet count.”

“You are a really good dueler.”

“You want to use your time to tell me what I already know? And for ze record, zat was not my full ability.”

Hermione stared incredulously. “ _ What!? _ You said you weren’t going to go easy on me!”

“Non. I said zat I would not go easy on you because of your age. I did try to make eet a challenge for you. I did eet because I could not risk revealing my strategy, not wizz Diggory in ze class.”

Hermione nodded “I guess that makes sense.”

Fleur scoffed “I zink you will find zat I am razzer intelligent, if you cared to get to know me razzer zan just assume I am a… what is ze phrase...” she tapped her chin dramatically to emphasize her point “ah, oui, just a dumb blonde.”

“Right, about that. I actually wanted to apologize for what I said to you earlier this week... And for calling you a tart last week… And for suggesting that you weren’t ambitious or capable of being a Champion.” Hermione kept eye contact to try to convey how sincere she was. She hadn’t realized how much of an arse she had been. 

“And so you zought zat trying to ‘ex me into next year was ze best way to apologize?” Fleur stared back. “You are truly a confusing girl, ‘Ermione Granger.”

“I’m serious. I was being an ignorant git. I shouldn’t have assumed your heritage based on your looks… I’m sure you get that enough from others and I’m truly sorry for falling into that group. Can you forgive me?” 

Fleur regarded her cautiously, her bright blue eyes guarded. “I suppose I am a believer in second chances…” She offered a small smile. “And I should also apologize. I sent you ze tart. And I was not being exactly easy to be around.”

“I know.” Hermione returned the smile.

“May I suggest zat ze next time you want to apologize to me per’aps a duel ees not ze best way for us to settle our differences? I would appreciate eet eef you did not try to take my arm off. I like my body ze way eet ess. I will admit, you are very talented, zough. Per’aps you should ‘ave been in zis tournament, non?”

Hermione was blushing heavily at Fleur’s compliment. “I… well… thank you. And if you are interested, perhaps we could have a rematch and you can go full tilt at me. I won’t tell anyone your strategy, I promise.”

Fleur nodded slowly “I might like zat. You challenge me. Unfortunately my free time ees very limited wizz ze approaching Task but per’aps another time?”

“Sure! So, perhaps we can be friendly acquaintances?” Hermione asked tentatively. 

“Acquaintances.” Fleur agreed. 

Hermione was absolutely beaming. “Great! Brilliant. So, I guess I’ll see you around then.” She put her hand out to shake. 

“See you around.” Fleur smiled again and then leaned in and planted two soft kisses on her cheeks.

Hermione froze, unable to move or think, her face burning hotly as she watched Fleur twist and strut out of the room. After a few seconds she chastised herself for thinking that it meant anything. That’s just how the French said goodbye. 


	8. Chapter 8

Fleur was feeling rather good about the way things had turned out with Hermione. They had a friendly understanding and weren’t actively ignoring or glaring at one another anymore. Perhaps they might actually be able to be friends. As much as she wanted to make this happen and spend time with the brunette witch, what she said after their duel was true. She had _very_ little free time to herself. 

Madame Maxime had stuffed the gaps in her schedule with extra lessons and physical training to help her prepare for the first task. In addition to that, she had been given a month of “Abraxan Duty” for a month as punishment for speaking out after the Champion Selection Ceremony. This meant every evening was spent mucking out the stalls for the winged horses of Beauxbatons. Muggle style. With a shovel and pitchfork. It was hardly dignified work but she accepted her fate, knowing that things would be worse if she retaliated again. Her family bred horses at their estate, so she was used to having to do this anyway. 

What free time she had was spent with Harry in their secret tutoring sessions. She was trying to help him with charms and spells that she thought would be useful to him. She knew he was powerful but he just hadn’t learned as many spells as the other Champions, which put him at a steep disadvantage. She knew that Hermione was helping him too, which made her feel better about his situation. At least he had 2 people in his corner this time. 

She still wasn’t sure if the First Task would be a dragon fight again. She hoped so, it would make things much easier this time around since she already had experience. But so much about this timeline was different that she didn’t want to assume anything. So until she had confirmation about dragons, she was going to work on perfecting her spells so that she was prepared for anything. 

On November 17, a week prior to the First Task, Fleur was pulled out of her morning classes for the Weighing of the Wands and an ‘exclusive interview’ with Rita Skeeter. Fleur remembered the snake of a journalist who twisted words and spread slanderous rumors in her articles. She was not looking forward to this again. But at least she was prepared this time. She had crafted several carefully worded canned responses that would be impossible to misinterpret. There was still the chance of getting thrown a curveball, but she trusted herself to stay calm and keep a level head.

She quietly followed the young Hufflepuff student that had been sent to collect her from her morning Herbology class. From her previous time she knew that she would still have to go to her final class of the day, which in this case was History of Magic class. She wasn’t sure what she was dreading more: talking to Skeeter or having to endure the most boring lecture in the history of classes. The ghost professor usually spent the entire time just droning on and on with his back to the class. Half the students were asleep or doing something else and a couple of brave souls even left shortly after attendance was taken. Even Hermione seemed to struggle to stay focused. So she spent her quiet walk thinking of ways she could liven things up and make the class more entertaining for herself. 

She was the second Champion to arrive, Krum was standing quietly in a corner, leaning against the walls. His arms were folded across his broad chest and his eyes were closed. Fleur wondered if he was asleep or meditating. She knew that despite his fame, he was actually rather shy and reserved. The two would become better friends after the First Task, bonding over the experience of having to face down a living, breathing dragon. But until then, she was content to just let him stew in his own little world. He didn’t even stir when the door opened and Cedric and Harry arrived.

Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch arrived next, followed by the three school Heads and an elderly man with wispy tufts of white hair. Ollivander, she remembered. Last to enter was a younger woman with fake bleach blonde hair, curled up in an elaborate yet tacky updo. While Fleur usually tried to not judge people by their looks, she couldn’t help that everything about Rita Skeeter put a bad taste in her mouth. From her satin green robes looked like over ripe limes to her horn rimmed glasses. Her plump lips were coated in an excessive amount of red lipstick and the corners of her mouth were twisted in a wicked smirk as she looked over the assembled Champions. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Good day Champions, good day indeed!” Bagman started the events. “Today we will be inspecting your wands for their properties and to ensure that they are all in proper working order. Wouldn’t want you to go wandering into the First Task unprepared now, would we?”

Fleur scoffed quietly to herself. She noticed Maxime flash her a dangerous glare out of the corner of her eye and she straightened up immediately. She still had 12 days of Abraxan duty and she didn’t want any more time added to her punishment.

Bagman continued, unaware of the exchange between the Frenchwomen. “First a group picture and then you will meet with Ollivander to have your wands checked and then you will go with Ms. Skeeter from the Daily Prophet for your exclusive interview. She has designated a private room to conduct her interviews so that you will feel most comfortable to share your thoughts with her. 

The four Champions assembled and took their places, taking cues from the photographer. Fleur stared directly ahead, not fully smiling, giving more of a defiant and proud expression. After the picture was taken, Skeeter strutted over to them and looked them all up and down as if appraising items for an auction.

“What a charismatic quartet. I for one cannot wait to speak to each of you one-on-one.” Her voice was sickeningly sweet and her scent overwhelming. Skeeter was very heavy handed with her perfume and it made Fleur want to gag a little. “My ravenous readers want to know about what it takes to be a Champion… all that brawn and beauty…” she cupped Fleur’s cheek and then slapped it softly. 

Fleur was seething. _How dare this woman touch her without her permission?!_ Her Veela demanded retribution but she just clenched her jaw and sat quietly doing a breathing exercise instead of ripping the woman's head off.

“Wonderful, I’m sure that picture will be front page worthy! Now, the Wand Ceremony. As always, ladies first. Miss Delacour, if you would, please?” Bagman gestured for her to come forward but Fleur did not move. She remembered that Skeeter’s ‘private interview space’ was a broom cupboard and she did not want to deal with that again. Nor did she want Harry to be stuck with that snake. At least this way he would have witnesses. “Non. I shall speak with Ollivander, but I would much prefer to conduct my interview een zis room.”

“Why, Miss Delacour, what are you saying? I assure you that this is for the best. You wouldn’t want the other Champions to overhear you, now would you?”

Fleur shook her head in the direction of the platinum blonde. “I shall not be discussing my strategies wizz you and whatever I say shall be put een print anyway, so ze ozzer Champions will read eet, non? I 'ave nozzing to 'ide and I am much more comfortable in zis room. I like ze natural light, don’t you agree?” She saw Dumbledore give her a subtle nod of agreement.

Skeeter opened her mouth and closed it several times as she tried to come up with a counterargument. She reminded Fleur very much of a fish. If fish wore clothes and glasses. “Very well, Miss Delacour. I would be glad to oblige your request. I shall wait over here for when you are finished with Ollivander.” 

Fleur nodded, satisfied with the outcome and gave the quietly fuming blonde woman a smug smirk for good measure. She was on to this woman and she was not going to allow her to manipulate their words like last time.

She stepped forward and approached Ollivander, who had taken a seat at a nearby desk. She proudly held out her wand to him and watched as he cradled it like it was the most precious object on earth. 

“Mmm… not one of mine I see…” Ollivander tutted then began visually inspecting the wand for a few moments as he ran his long slender fingers along the length. After that, he held it up to his ear, twisting it slightly. He pursed his lips and nodded, as if he was having a silent conversation.

“Interesting, this is a powerful wand. 9 and a half inches and rosewood. A very finicky wood to work with, not one that I personally use. It is… inflexible. The wand is loyal to you and I believe it is capable of great magic, particularly charms and healing. This is a wand of light and love, not easily used for the Dark Arts. Not that I would ever imagine you would delve into such endeavors… The core though is very intriguing… a material most rare… few wandmakers ever have the pleasure to work with such a material.” 

Fleur nodded, noting that all eyes in the room were watching their interaction. She held her head high and answered the question the onlookers were silently asking. “Oui, ze core ees a Veela ‘air.” She heard Skeeter gasp in the corner followed by the feverish scratching of quill on parchment. 

Ollivander smiled and gave the wand a wide flourish, creating a beautiful array of flowers. “Yes, exceptional for charms indeed. Miss Delacour, thank you and I wish you well in the upcoming Tasks you face.” He handed the wand back to her, intricately carved hilt first.

She took the wand back and casually strapped it into the holster on her forearm before moving to speak with Skeeter. She gave the seated woman the slightest head nods to acknowledge her existence as she took a seat opposite of her.

Rita was staring daggers, as if trying to read Fleur’s mind. Fortunately, she was well practiced in the art of Occlumency and had very strong mental walls. There would be no mind reading today. “Right, Miss Delacour… you don’t mind if I use a Quick Quotes Quill do you?” she gestured to a bright green animated quill hovering over a scroll of parchment on the desk.

“I would prefer eef you took ze notes by ‘and, zank you very much.”

“Indeed. Well, you are the Champion after all.” Rita scowled but picked up the quill, which went still in her hand. “So, Miss Delacour, what compelled you to enter such a dangerous and daring tournament?”

Fleur smiled, exuding faux sweetness “Compelled ees not ze right word. I entered of my own volition and een sound mind, body, and spirit. Ze Triwizard Tournament ees an esteemed tradition zat challenges ze strongest and most capable to bring ‘onor to zeir school. I believe zat I ‘ave what eet takes to be a strong competitor and weeshed only for ze opportunity to prove myself. I am grateful for ze opportunity to represent ze Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.”

Rita scribbled feverishly “Are you concerned about the competition?”

“We were all selected for a reason. Eet would be unwise to underestimate ze ozzer Champions. If ze Goblet of Fire deemed us all worzzy, zen I shall consider zem such as well.”

Rita took a little longer to write after that response. Fleur noted that she was writing much more than she thought necessary for the response given.

Rita finished her thought with a wide flourish of her quill. “So, I heard you mention you are of Veela heritage?”

Fleur fixed her icy blue eyes on Skeeter. “Non, I simply said zat my wand core ees Veela ‘air.”

“But you must have connections, then. From what I hear, Veela like to keep it in the family. So whoever gave that hair must be important to you. A mother, perhaps? Grandmother even?”

Fleur simply stared at the reporter “I will neither confirm or deny zat. Take eet as you will, I know you’ve already made assumptions about me and eet ees pointless to try to convince you ozzerwise.”

A wicked smile graced the faux-blonde’s lips. “How do you think that will affect your performance in the tournament?”

Fleur didn’t allow herself to react. She knew this was coming, she had dealt with prejudice like this all her life. “I do not understand. I fail to see ‘ow my ‘eritage ‘as any influence on my performance in ze tournament.”

“I meant because your fellow Champions are all men.”

“Your point?” Fleur responded stiffly.

Rita smiled innocently “Well between us girls, you must know that most people are going to expect you to just roll over and take it on your back. Especially with your alleged Veela origins.”

Fleur clenched her jaw and her eyes flashed dangerously before she could school her reaction. “I do not appreciate what you are insinuating, Mademoiselle Skeeter. I am a talented and accomplished witch. Ozzerwise ze Goblet would not ‘ave selected me to represent my Academy. And I intend to prove zat to everyone.“ She stood up swiftly and elegantly, effectively ending the interview, ignoring Rita’s shocked expression.

As she strode by the other woman, she leaned down and whispered in her ear “and I do not take eet on my back. I prefer to stand, zank you very much.”

With that she swept out of the room and returned to the Carriage until her next class. So much for keeping her cool.

She found Evangeline in the common space in the Carriage and sat with her friend to vent about the infuriating reporter. She knew Evangeline would understand the frustrations she felt about people’s opinions about Veela.

After a light lunch she headed to History of Magic, looking forward to seeing Hermione to take her mind off things.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was worried about Harry’s interview with Skeeter. She knew that last time the shifty journalist had written an entire page spread on him being a suspect entrant into the Tournament and effectively cast doubt about his ability and motives. She had made him sound like a naive boy who was desperate for fame and glory. It definitely did him no favors with the other Hogwarts students, who already thought of him as a cheat and a liar. 

She was feeling better about his preparedness this time around. He seemed to have a much better handle on charms that she had planned on teaching him, like the Summoning Charm, which he had used last time to call his Firebolt to the arena. She felt like someone might be helping him, but when she asked about it, he simply shook his head and gave a vague response.

She stabbed at her pork chop in the Great Hall while she waited for him to come back. What would Skeeter do this time? She was surprised when Harry joined her, looking rather pleased.

“Good interview?” Hermione quirked an eyebrow in confusion about his mood and demeanor.

Harry shrugged and grabbed a sandwich off the tray “I think it went alright. Dumbledore backed me up on a few points, so that was nice.”

Hermione spewed her sip of pumpkin juice, grateful that no one was sitting close to them. “What? Dumbledore was there?”

“Yeah, all of us were there together.”

Hermione blinked “I thought it was supposed to be a private interview?”

“It was, but Fleur made a stink about going into a separate room, so they let us stay.”

“Oh, that’s interesting…” Hermione was interrupted by a flash of red.

“What did Phlegm do this time?”

“She was actually very strategic and she does not deserve to be called that, Ginerva Weasley.”

“Oi, no need to snatch my head off…” Ginny rolled her eyes and started loading her plate.

"I'm just saying that she's a Champion for a reason and deserves a little respect," Hermione retorted quickly.

"Why do you care anyway?" Ginny muttered grumpily and took a large bite of sandwich. 

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to move the conversation to less heated waters “Did you know that she really is part-Veela? She basically said it out loud and everything! Though I guess it was kind of obvious, when you think about it.”

“Damn it! I owe Ron a sickle.” Ginny groaned and got up to find her prat of a brother, who was sitting on the opposite end of the long table with Seamus and Dean.

Hermione nodded once Ginny was gone “Yeah, it came up the other day.” She hadn’t really had a chance to talk with Harry about Fleur, nor did she want to. She was not about to gush about her crush to her teenage best friend.

Harry nodded as he chewed “Oh, hey, Hagrid wanted to show me something later tonight. Wanna come?”

Hermione shook her head “No, I’m really behind on my classes. 7th year lessons are tough...” she lied, but judging by the look of understanding, Harry seemed to accept her response.

“Right, well, I’ll fill you in later then.”

Hermione smiled “Thanks, and please tell Hagrid I said hi will you?”

“You got it.” 

Hermione finished lunch with Harry and hurried off to History of Magic. She also brought a large tome she had been reading through that contained theories about alternate universes and dimensions. 

She sat in her usual spot and took out a roll of parchment, her inkwell and a fresh quill. Professor Binns rarely paid attention to what people were actually doing in his class, so she figured that as long as she looked busy, she wouldn’t raise any suspicions.

She pulled out her extra reading and started digging in, speaking only to answer Binns’ roll call when her name was said. 

She was hastily reading and taking notes on her parchment, her fingers stained with ink. She was so focused that she almost shrieked in surprise when letters started forming on her parchment. She had a healthy distrust of magic ink, remembering Harry’s experience with Riddle’s diary in their second year together.

She stared intently as she watched the eloquent script form a message before her eyes.

_“Hello, Hermione. What are you working on so intently? Clearly not this lecture.”_

Hermione blinked and looked up, cautiously peering around the classroom but not wanting to raise any suspicion. It seemed that whoever sent the message was in the classroom. Instinctively she gripped her wand under the desk, preparing for any unexpected attack. A moment later the original message disappeared and a new one formed.

_“To your left. And I thought we agreed for you to not hex me, please.”_

Hermione blinked and looked to her left only to see a very smug looking Fleur smiling at her. She rolled her eyes and mouthed “Cocky git.” which caused the Champion to giggle into her hand.

_“This is much better, non?”_

Hermione just smiled and nodded. A moment later a transference spell appeared on her parchment. She knew the spell of course, but her 15 year old self wouldn’t. She was glad that Fleur had offered it, otherwise the conversation would have been rather one sided. She quickly cast the spell and started shooting back messages in her own tidy script.

_“Very clever. Normally I would reprimand you for not paying attention in class, but this is painful.”_

_“Indeed. So, what are you working on?”_

_“Research for Transfiguration essay.”_ Hermione lied. There was no reason she should be reading anything about alternate dimensions and while she and the French girl had a sort of truce, she didn’t trust her quite yet.

The two passed the rest of the class sending secret messages to one another. Hermione had to admit that Fleur was right, it was a _much_ better way to spend her time.


	9. Chapter 9

Fleur had never thought that she would ever be relieved to hear someone tell her that she had to fight a dragon. But that’s exactly how she felt when Maxime told her about the First Task. She knew exactly what to do this time around. Last time she had the Welsh Green and had managed to cast a particularly powerful sleeping charm on it. She figured this time around would be pretty much the same. But she made sure to work on her fire repelling charms. Her leg still had occasional phantom pain, remembering the burn of dragon fire from when the sleeping dragon snored and unexpectedly released a burst of fire, catching her skirt on fire.

Even though she was feeling confident, she didn’t allow herself to get complacent or lazy. Quite the opposite, in fact. She decided to start going for a run in the mornings before breakfast. Her Abraxan duty had made her realize that she needed to build her physical endurance and condition her heart, not just her muscles. Madame Maxime’s physical regime was more focused on quick bursts of strength and power, but Fleur knew she needed more. Especially if the Second Task was anything like last time. 

She wondered if she had been stronger then maybe she could have fought off the grindylow attacks. She felt the burning shame of having not completed her task, failing to save Gabrielle from the merpeople. 

She felt herself worrying more about this task than the task that she was going to be facing in just a few short days. It was the only one with real unknowns. Since she didn’t finish the task last time, she didn’t know where the hostages were actually kept or how much further she would have needed to swim in order to find them. She was determined not to repeat her mistakes in the past. She had been so young and arrogant, letting her Veela pride get the better of her.

« Not this time » She muttered to herself as she tightened the laces of her sneakers and slipped out of the quiet carriage. 

Aside from her anxiety about the Second Task, Fleur was in great spirits. Ever since she and Hermione had started interacting more, her nights weren’t quite as unbearable. She still had occasional nightmares but now her dreams were mostly focused around her mate and how happy she felt. With what was coming, Fleur needed all the rest she could get to keep her body and mind sharp so she didn’t chastise her Veela for thinking about the Golden Girl to stay calm at night. 

She had also noticed that Hermione seemed to be more energetic and alert. She had been concerned when she saw how tired the younger witch looked. She knew that Hermione had a lot on her plate with being in such advanced classes and also worrying about Harry and the Tournament, but the poor girl looked like she hadn’t slept in months! Selfishly she hoped that maybe her presence was having the same effect on her mate and helping her sleep. 

She was about half-way around the Lake when she spotted someone approaching her, also dressed for exercise. She smiled wide when she saw the unruly brown curls bouncing behind the girl as she approached.

“Bonjour ‘Ermione. Fancy seeing you ‘ere, mon ami.” Fleur waved cheerfully.

“Hi Fleur! I didn’t expect to see you out. Do you run often? I haven’t seen you here before.” Hermione slowed her pace as she approached.

“I just started today. I zought eet would do me good. Eet ees… calm. And it might ‘elp me wizz ze tasks.” 

“I’ve been trying to tell Harry the same thing but he thinks riding a broom counts as exercise!”

“Well, eet does require quite a bit of strengzz to control flying…” Fleur’s eyes sparkled when she saw Hermione throw her hands up and huff something about “ugh not you, too!” But she was having a hard time focusing, trying to keep her eyes from drifting downward. 

Try as she might, she couldn’t help but look her mate up and down at least once. She had never seen Hermione in clothes like these before. Her Veela purred her approval. The Golden Girl clearly took good care of her body. She was surprised to notice that Hermione was rather toned, more than she expected. In her defense, the black school robes were not very flattering to anyone, hiding all curves and shapes. 

The Gryffindor was wearing a black spandex long sleeve shirt and matching bottoms. The tight fabric hugged her gentle curves just so. She was wearing a little beanie, Gryffindor red, of course, and her cheeks flushed with effort and the chilly winter air. Her soft pink lips parted as she breathed heavily from her run. She looked so… _Shit, shit, shit. No!_ She chastised herself for having thoughts about the young witch. Subconscious thoughts were one thing, she couldn’t control those, but she was wide awake and had no excuse. 

Fleur quickly looked for something to distract herself. A flash of silver caught her eye. She quirked her eyebrow when she noticed a silver emblem on the shirt. It looked like two half circles, facing opposite directions and overlapping slightly in the middle. “What ees zat? I do not recognize ze maker’s sigil. Ees eet a British zing?” 

It was a lame but better than nothing and it did the trick.

“Oh, this? No. It’s a Muggle brand. Underarmour. Designed specifically for exercising. My mum sent it to me. It’s quite comfortable, actually. Light but also very warm.”

Fleur nodded, right. Hermione was a Muggle-born, forever straddling two worlds. “Zat ees interesting. Per’aps I should get some of zat eef I wanted to keep up running.”

Hermione nodded “If you did, I can help order it for you. You keep surprising me, you know. Most people shy away from Muggle clothes…”

Fleur huffed “I zink we bozz know zat I am not ‘most people’ as you say. I might be a Veela, but I would like to zink zat I am razzer open-minded.”

Hermione nodded appreciatively “I respect that a lot about you. And I never really had a chance to tell you this, but thank you for speaking out against Skeeter. That woman… ugh” Hermione made a disgusted noise and shivered.

“Eet was nozzing. I am not unfamiliar to ze ways ze media likes to twist ze truzz. Eet was beneficial for everybody. Except per’aps Madamoiselle Skeeter ‘erself. I’m afraid she won’t ‘ave as much juicy gossip to write about.” Fleur feigned an overly dramatic sympathetic look, her hand on her forehead to emphasize her sarcasm. Her Veela was strutting about, proud that her mate was praising her actions. Sort of praising her… close enough.

Hermione nodded “Well, I’m glad all the same.”

They stared awkwardly at one another for a moment, neither sure what to say or do. The heavy silence started to grow between them like a thick oppressive blanket. 

Fleur finally broke the tension “Would you like to join me to finish ze run? I can turn around so you can continue your track.”

Hermione just grinned “Yeah, that would be brilliant. I’d love the company. We can go your way.”

The young Gryffindor turned and started running at a gentle pace, leaving Fleur to stare dumbly at her ass for a moment. She would have to write a letter to thank this Underarmour person for having invented such a wonderful…

“Fleur! Are you coming?” Hermione’s voice snapped her out of her daze and her tracking instinct kicked in when she saw her mate in the distance. Her Veela loved to chase and run and she herself got excited by the thrill of the ‘hunt.’ She tore after the brunette with a broad smile that reached her eyes.

The one downside of running was that neither had much breath left to have a conversation, but Fleur just enjoyed having the opportunity to be close to her mate, just appreciating the companionship.

When they got back to the Beauxbatons carriage, Fleur was not satisfied with the short amount of time they had spent together. She paused with her hand on the door “Would you like to get breakfast wizz me? I must get ready for ze day, but per’aps we could meet een an ‘our? Zat gives us plenty of time to eat before class.”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically “Yeah, that’s perfect. I need to get ready as well. So, I’ll… see you in the Great Hall in an hour then.”

“Een an ‘our, mon ami.” Fleur confirmed and headed into the carriage.

The moment she entered the carriage, Fleur was attacked by a blue blur that latched onto her waist for a moment only to jump back with a displeased squeak.

« Ewwww, Fleur! You’re all sweaty! » Gabrielle complained, looking at her sister like she had a bad case of spattergoit.

« Oui, I went for a run around the Lake. » Fleur just rolled her eyes and walked past her, knowing the little Delacour would follow.

« Oh yeah? Just a run, hmm? »

Fleur didn’t respond, she knew what Gabrielle was up to. She was not going to give her sister the satisfaction of riling her up.

« If it was just a run, what were you doing with Brainy? I saw you two talking outside! » Gabrielle continued her teasing as she chased after her elder sister.

« Brainy? Is that your new nickname for her now? »

« Yes, I think it suits her very well. And stop deflecting. Answer me. »

« You are such a little monster...» Fleur sighed, her sister could be so bossy. « We ran into one another during our exercising. » They had reached her room and she sat on her bed, taking off her shoes.

Gabrielle huffed, « Is there something going on between you two? You seem to talk a lot about her. »

« I talk about her because we are in the same classes and she is very smart and nice to talk to. And no, there is nothing going on between us. Stop being so nosy. You are spending too much time with Evangeline, I think her habits are rubbing off on you. Now go, little monster, I need to get ready for the day. »

« Can we go to breakfast together? I hardly ever get to see you anymore! »

« Of course. I am meeting ‘Ermione for breakfast but I am sure she would be fine if you joined us. »

Gabrielle’s face lit up but before she could speak, Fleur cut her off. 

« Do not give me that look. We are just having breakfast as friends. »

Gabrielle pouted but rolled off the bed and headed for the door. « Fine. Come get me when you are ready. »

Fleur shot her a playful glare when she heard the girl muttering under her breath as she left. She only caught a few of the words but “denial,” “hard headed” and “useless lesbians” were definitely present. Evangeline was definitely having an influence on her sister. She sighed as she headed for her private bathroom to get ready. 

She hoped for Maxime’s sake that the headmistress would be retired by the time Gabrielle started at Beauxbatons. Otherwise she was going to have a real handful to deal with.

After a hot shower, Fleur emerged from her room feeling like a new woman, ready to take on anything the day had in store. She found Gabrielle talking animatedly with Evangeline and the three witches made their way up to the castle for breakfast.

Fleur perked up when she saw Hermione sitting at the table next to Harry and Ginny, so she felt less bad for bringing her friends along. An added benefit of a group breakfast is that it seemed more casual and put less pressure on her.

Every head in the Great Hall swiveled when the three part-Veela entered and made their way over to Gryffindor table rather than their usual seats at Ravenclaw. Especially when they sat with Harry, who was still being shunned.

She was disturbed to notice that Harry looked exhausted. His usually bright green eyes were dull and bloodshot and he looked like he was in pain. She wondered what was troubling him so much but figured it had to do with the news about the dragons. Hermione had a slightly distant gaze, not particularly paying attention to what Harry and Ginny were discussing. Whatever was on Harry’s mind was clearly affecting her mate.

“Bonjour, everyone. I ‘ope you do not mind, ‘Ermione, I ‘ave brought my little sister, Gabrielle, and my friend Evangeline to breakfast.”

Hermione grinned up at her “No trouble at all, the more the merrier. Hi, I’m Hermione.” she introduced herself to the two witches flanking Fleur’s movements. 

“Enchantee, ‘Ermione. I ‘ave ‘eard much about you.” Evangeline smiled charmingly, giggling when she saw the other brunette blush. She turned and looked expectantly at the redhead girl who was busy glowering slightly at Fleur. The girl simply said “Ginny Weasley” with a very stiff tone. 

Fleur faked a smile to Ginny as she sat down next to Hermione. She and Ginny had never really warmed up to one another, mostly due to Ginny’s immaturity and refusal to call her anything other than Phlegm. It seemed that nothing had changed this time around, but for Hermione’s sake, she sucked it up and put on a pleasant face.

“‘Ow ees everybody zis morning?” Fleur asked lightly, selecting a piece of toast and lathering jam on it.

The group fell into light conversation. So far it was a very pleasant morning indeed.

Then the post arrived and it all went to hell in a handbasket. Rita Skeeter’s article had dropped.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione returned to Gryffindor tower feeling happy and warm, and not just because of the exercise. She was glad that Lavender and Parvati were still asleep because she was certain that she was grinning like a fool and she did not want to fall victim to their endless questioning. She hopped in the shower and got ready for the day, taking a little extra time to make herself look more presentable for the day.

After she made an effort to tame her unruly curls, she made her way down to the common room. She spotted Harry coming down the stairs from the boys’ dormitory and was immediately concerned. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night and he was clutching his forehead. His scar must be bothering him again. 

She pulled him over to a quiet corner and sat him down in an overstuffed armchair. “Harry, what’s going on? Is it your dreams again?”

Harry nodded with a grimace, still holding his scar. “It’s getting worse. It was really bad last night.”

“Do you feel comfortable telling me about it? Is it the same dream from the house?”

Harry shook his head. “It was different. It wasn’t like the other one. It was black but I heard…” he cringed and curled his arms around himself. 

Hermione’s heart broke when she saw how small he looked. “It’s okay, take your time.” She carefully pried one of his hands free and held it between her own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. She knew that he was not very comfortable with physical contact, a result of his abuse and neglect at the hands of the Dursleys. Small gestures like this were better to him than big hugs.

“I didn’t see anything, but I heard a voice in my head.” Harry finally spoke, his voice shaky and cracking a little.

“What did the voice say? Was it You-Know-Who?” Hermione didn’t bother rolling her eyes at herself. While she had no issue saying his name, her 15 year old self wasn’t comfortable using the name so openly. But right now she was too focused on Harry.

“It wasn’t him. It was a woman. She… she didn’t say anything. She just laughed. I didn’t know a laugh could be so… evil. It made me feel worse than being around the Dementors.”

Hermione stilled. She knew exactly who Harry was talking about. But that couldn’t be right. Bellatrix was still in Azkaban and would be for another year. There was no reason that Harry should know about that. And he didn’t have a connection with Bellatrix’s thoughts. So why was he dreaming about her? Something to worry about later, right now she was more concerned about calming her friend.

“Hey you two, wanna head down to breakfast?” Ginny’s timing was perfect.

Harry nodded slowly “Yeah, maybe food will make me feel better.”

A few minutes later, Hermione sat quietly, picking at her food while Ginny tried to distract Harry with Quidditch talk. She did not understand the obsession with the sport and had nothing to contribute to the conversation. She subtly watched the entrance to keep an eye out for Fleur. She felt bad that she had Harry and Ginny, but she figured Fleur would understand. Plus she could keep an eye on Ginny and make sure the fiery redhead wasn’t too rude to her friend. _Wait. Friends? Could she consider Fleur a friend yet?_ Sure, they had talked a few times and exchanged messages in class the other day, but… It didn’t matter, she had other things to worry about. Like the change in Harry’s dreams. It was very unsettling to her.

“Bonjour, everyone...”

Hermione was grateful for the distraction and enjoyed the pleasant conversation with the three French witches, though her worry about Harry's dream was still niggling at the back of her mind. Even Ginny seemed to be behaving herself, though she talked more with Evangeline, which was probably for the better. Hermione didn’t feel like dealing with a snarky Ginny. She remembered how annoyed Ginny was by the way her brother drooled and lusted over Fleur and made her displeasure obvious, calling her mean names behind her back. _Ugh,_ her friends were so immature back then. 

She was pulled from her thoughts when the sound of screeches and fluttering wings filled the Great Hall for the morning postal delivery. It was actually one of Hermione’s favorite times of the day. There was something magical about watching so many birds flying around, carrying letters and packages of all shapes and sizes. She marveled that there was never a collision, which with hundreds of owls flying about, was a miracle in itself.

A small speckled brown owl fluttered down and landed in front of her, holding out a rolled up paper in its talons. She grabbed a few coins and put them in the pouch attached to the bird’s other leg and the owl released its hold on the newspaper. 

Hermione thanked the bird and gave it a bit of sausage, which it happily gulped down before flying away. She untied the red string holding the paper closed and unfurled it. On the front page was a picture of the four Champions standing together. She smiled at how confident Fleur looked, tilting her head up at her. She wasn’t smiling this time, nor was she sitting. She looked strong and powerful.

Then she started reading.

The article started off just like it had before, though she noted that Skeeter was less harsh about Harry’s participation than last time. Then her jaw dropped when she got to the second half of the slanderous article. From the rippling giggles she heard echoing throughout the Great Hall, she was not the only one to be reading the morning Daily Prophet.

“What ees so funny?” Fleur looked up from her plate of fruit, looking around the room.

Hermione paused then slid the paper over to Fleur. “You… it might be easier if you read.”

Fleur gave her a confused look but took the paper and started reading. As she read, her brows started to knit tighter and tighter together.

Hermione held her breath, waiting for Fleur to get to the part that she had just read.

Fleur’s shriek filled the Great Hall when she read what Rita Skeeter had published about her.

Hermione sat bolt upright, her eyes wide, afraid to breathe or move. Fleur was ranting in a heated mix of English, French, and a language that she didn’t recognize. _Veela, perhaps?_ She didn’t need to understand the words to get the gist of what the blonde was feeling. The blonde was absolutely furious. Her eyes were flashing dangerously, shifting between icy blue to scarlet red. Hermione knew without a doubt that she would rather face a pack of Blast-Ended Skrewts than ever end up on the receiving end of Fleur’s fury. 

“Excuse me… I must go and kill zis infuriating excuse of a woman.” Fleur jumped to her feet and stormed out of the Hall, leaving a stunned silence in her wake. Gabrielle and Evangeline chased after her.

Hermione just sat numbly. _Well that just happened._

“Bwahaha! Okay this is hilarious!” Ginny exclaimed as she read the paper “Man, this Skeeter woman really dug in at her! Really paints her as a floozy who just slept her way into the tournament...” she smacked her knee gleefully “What’s this bit? Oh, Ice Queen… that’s good… even better than Phlegm!”

Hermione had had enough “Stop it, Ginny!” The fuming brunette snatched her paper back from her friend “Fleur is none of those things and she really doesn’t deserve to be painted as such! She’s nice and intelligent and it’s not her fault that people are so ignorant and make horrid assumptions about her because of something she has no control over!”

“Whoa! Calm down, there Hermione! I wasn’t the one to write the article. If anyone you should be ripping Skeeter a new one, not me!”

“But you’re just feeding into it!” Hermione huffed “You know, if you’re just going to be a git, here. Believe what you will. But I’m going to find my friend now.” She angrily tossed the paper back on the table.

For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like reading. If she had, she would have read a small but disturbing piece about a break out from Azkaban the night before.


	10. Chapter 10

Fleur was pissed. Apparently by taking the heat off of Harry, Skeeter had turned to her as the new target for slander and lies. The article painted her as a harlot and a tramp, and the entire wizarding world was reading about it over their morning coffee. _Fan-fucking-tastic._ She couldn’t wait to get her hands on Skeeter in the next interview. She was ready to tear the woman limb from limb.

Unfortunately, the article made her ‘adoring fans’ feel particularly emboldened and seem to think that they had a chance with her. There was a constant sea of stupid boys chasing her everywhere she went, hounding her relentlessly for dates and more. She couldn’t walk more than a few feet before someone else approached her.

It got so bad that she hid in the safety of her room for the remainder of the weekend, using the tournament as an excuse. She wasn’t hiding out of shame, she was used to being the subject of rumors and looks. She had developed a thick skin and she frankly didn’t care what people thought about her. Besides, aside from her family, the only opinion that mattered to her was Hermione’s. She was hiding because she was so irritated there was a real chance she would lose her shit and actually hex someone. 

Monday started off surprisingly well. She and Hermione had coordinated to go on a Lake run together. They spent the weekend exchanging messages from afar, which helped keep her calm while she was in her self-imposed isolation. She was glad that the young Gryffindor seemed to be just as annoyed by Skeeter and had assured her that she had her support no matter what was printed in the papers. It was surprisingly mature for the teenager, but she was in no position to question it. She was just grateful that Hermione hadn’t gone running for the hills. 

But her day went quickly downhill from there. 

After her Potions block, Fleur was on her way to lunch when she came across an altercation happening in one of the secluded courtyards. Harry was facing off against a tall skinny blonde boy with a pointy face. Draco Malfoy. She recalled reading about the Malfoy family’s fall from grace after the Battle at the Ministry. 

She couldn’t hear what was being said, but it didn’t look good. Both boys were squaring up for a duel, their wands out and pointed. Draco was wearing a large button switched between Harry’s face and the message “Potter Stinks.” 

Fleur burst forward and stepped between Harry and Malfoy. “What ees ze meaning of zis?”

Malfoy’s face went from livid to dangerously gleeful. “Oh, look, everyone! Potter can’t even fight like a man! His girlfriend has to step in and save his arse!” The sea of serpents all roared with laughter. 

Fleur narrowed her eyes at the boy. “Little boy, I suggest you stop while you ‘ave some dignity left. I am not to be trifled wizz.”

Malfoy scoffed “You think you scare me, Veela? Are you even worthy of being a Champion or did you have to pull some strings to get yourself in?” He made a rude gesture with his hands to emphasize his point. Not knowing when to quit, Draco kept taunting “Hey, Potter! How does it feel to be sloppy seconds? Or would you be thirds? Fourths? Stop me when I get it right…”

Fleur felt Harry stiffen at her side as the tension built. She just took him by the shoulder and pulled him away, “‘E ees not worzz getting een trouble over.” She whispered in his ear.

“Delacour and Potter sitting in a tree…” 

Fleur’s neck prickled, her Veela instinct kicking in, warning her. Without a word she spun on her heel and waved her hand, deflecting the incoming hex. “‘Ow dare you curse someone when zeir back ees turned!” She growled, silently transfiguring Malfoy into a small white ferret. She smiled to herself when she saw the green robed students running around, trying to catch Draco, who was frantically scampering all over the place, squeaking loudly. It was a much better look for him, in her opinion.

“Fleur…”

Fleur looked over and her heart dropped into her stomach. Hermione was on her knees in the grass a few feet away. Her eyes were wide and fearful, her hands covering her mouth. Fleur and her Veela panicked at the sight of their mate in pain. She was at Hermione’s side in seconds, dropping down next to her. “‘Ermione, what’s wrong?”

Hermione just shook her head and muttered something about getting to the hospital wing, but her words were slurring together, making it difficult to understand what she was saying.

Fleur scooped the girl into her arms and cradled her close, carrying her bridal style towards the hospital wing. Fortunately for her, there was a little white ferret guiding her. 

She could feel Hermione trembling against her, she had tucked her face against her neck. In any other situation, she would have been absolutely beside herself with happiness. However, she felt nothing but guilt. She must have deflected Malfoy’s spell right into Hermione. _How could she have been so careless?_

By the time they arrived at the hospital wing, Hermione had passed out from the pain, her teeth almost six inches long and still growing. Madame Pomfrey got straight to work, bustling about Hermione’s bed, grabbing potions and muttering healing incantations. After a few minutes the healer-witch finished her work and left the two women alone. Fleur sat quietly by Hermione’s bedside, holding her hand as she waited for the girl to wake up.

Snape and McGonagall strode in a few minutes later and approached a nearby bed where the little ferret sat impatiently. With a swish of her wand, McGonagall transfigured Malfoy back into his greasy little self.

“My father will hear about this, you filthy half-breed creature!” Draco growled as soon as he was human again. He jumped off the bed and stomped over to where Fleur was sitting. The Slytherin boy was glaring daggers at Fleur, but she found it rather comical. 

“About what, Monsieur Malfoy? I did nozzing.” Fleur didn’t look at the boy, still focused on Hermione.

“You cursed me! I know it was you!”

“I did nozzing of ze sort.” She finally looked up, giving him an innocent look.

“That is a dangerous accusation, Mr. Malfoy. Can you prove it?”

“I saw her! She waved a hand at me!”

Even Snape looked doubtful “She… waved at you?”

“Are you suggesting zat you zink I am capable of bozz wordless and wandless magic? Well I am flattered, truly.” 

Malfoy opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure what to say. It was clear he didn't want to give her too much credit.

“Zeir ees a simple explanation as to why I would dare make such an outrageous gesture such as waving my ‘and. Zeir was a bee. I did not wish to be stung.” Fleur just shrugged. 

McGonagall failed to cover a small chuckle.

“I zink zat ze bigger issue ‘ere is zat your curse ees affecting mon ami.”

“Are you claiming that Mr. Malfoy cursed Miss Granger?”

“Oui, I am doing exactly zat.”

Malfoy’s face paled “You… you can’t prove it!”

“On the contrary.” McGonagall held out her hand for Draco’s wand, casting Priori Incantatem and the hawthorn wand revealed the last spell cast. A mist appeared, showing Hermione’s face and her teeth starting to grow.

“Well, I think that settles it.” McGonagall said grimly. “50 points from Slytherin for fighting in the halls…” When she saw Snape start to protest, McGonagall glared at the other Head of House, silencing him with a single look. “Seeing as the victim of an unprovoked attack is a member of my house, I believe it is fitting that I set the punishment. And 25 more points for being an ignorant bigot and insulting Miss Delacour’s heritage. And I think a week of detention with me… Do you think that is enough recompense, Miss Delacour.”

“Oui, I zink zat ees satisfactory compensation for my wounded ‘onor.”

“Professor! You can’t!” 

McGonagall gave him a stern gaze “I can and I will. I can keep going if you like, Mr. Malfoy.

Malfoy stared at the elderly witch, his eyes full of rage but he slammed his mouth shut, clenching his jaw so hard that Fleur was certain she heard something pop in his jaw.

“Now, I believe it is time for you to go to lunch, Mr. Malfoy. And I do not want to hear anything else about you fighting in the halls. Though I would love the additional company.”

“Au revoir, Monsieur Malfoy.” Fleur grinned sweetly and waved her hand after him, wiggling her fingers tauntingly.

“As for you, Miss Delacour, I assure you that Miss Granger is in good hands here with Madame Pomfrey. I must insist that you go to lunch as well. I shall tell her that you were here.”

Fleur nodded and reluctantly got up “Oui Madame.”

The rest of the week passed slowly. Fleur could hear whispers and caught sideways glances wherever she walked, but it seemed that more people were more intimidated by her. Probably because word of the incident with Malfoy spread quickly and people were afraid that she would hex them. Even the attention from her little posse had died down.

When Thursday morning came, Fleur was ready. She and the other Champions had been excused from their morning classes so they could prepare themselves. As much as she wanted to spend time with Hermione, she decided to skip her run, not wanting to expend too much energy. She walked into the Great Hall with her head held high, taking her seat next to Hermione and Harry. The youngest Champion looked pale as a sheet and was pushing his eggs around his plate.

“You need to eat, ‘Arry. You must keep up your strengzz.”

Harry looked at her and took a bite.

Hermione laughed softly “I’ve been trying to get him to eat all morning! You seem well, Fleur. Are you feeling ready?”

Fleur beamed “Oui, mon ami, I zink I am feeling prepared.” 

After breakfast, Fleur went back to the carriage to prepare. She was supposed to report to the Champion’s tent at 11:45 for a briefing on the details of the First Task, with the actual event starting at noon. She spent her time reviewing her spells and getting into her uniform. She decided against wearing a skirt this time around. Instead, she wore a pair of blue cotton pants and a matching blue long sleeve top. It was light material and therefore would be easier for her to saturate with her magic. She wore a light blue scarf as well. She pulled her hair up in a tight bun to keep it out of her face.

By 11:30 she was almost ready to go. She did a last minute check on her clothes, tightening the laces to her trainers and pulling on fingerless gloves. Her wand was tucked into a holster strapped to her thigh. With a deep sigh she headed out.

She was surprised to see that she was actually the last to arrive at the tent. She checked her timepiece to confirm that she wasn’t late. The four students stood separately, each taking up residence in a corner of the rectangular tent. Fleur subtly observed the competition. Harry was swishing his wand, practicing the motions for the _Accio_ spell. Cedric had his eyes closed but his face had a slightly green tint to it, as if he was about to be sick. She didn’t blame him. Going up against a fully grown dragon was nothing to take lightly. Krum stood stock still, his arms folded across his chest, his chin tilted down slightly. Just like he had been before the Weighing of the Wands ceremony. 

At precisely 11:45, Ludo, Barty and the three school masters entered.

“Exciting day, exciting day!” Bagman chirped excitedly. “Champions, gather around me, if you will!” Once they were circled around him, he turned to the other Ministry man, “Barty, the bag!”

“One by one, reach into the bag and withdraw the first thing you feel.” Bagman instructed.

Cedric went first, pulling out a small bluish dragon, a miniature Swedish Short Snout. It had a ribbon around its neck and a little tag with the number 1. Krum went next, removing a red dragon with long whiskers. The Chinese Fireball was wearing the number 3. So far everything was the same.

Fleur reached in and hissed in pain as something bit her, “Ouch! You little shit!” She exclaimed under her breath. She felt sharp claws digging into her thumb and a weight on her hand. She withdrew her hand, revealing a dragon with a crown of sharp curved spines. Sharp black spikes ran down the length of its spine to its tail, which looked like a mace of spikes. The black back scales glinted in the light and transitioned to gray towards its underbelly. Its four tag swung around as the tiny dragon whipped its head around, spraying a tiny flame into the air 

“Oooh, the Hungarian Horntail… viscous bugger that one. This should be a good show!” Bagman grinned and turned to Harry last, who pulled the Common Welsh Green, which would go second.

Fleur did her best not to react, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. She was staring at the miniature dragon on her hand, trying to determine any point of weakness, but the scaly armor looked solid. It was glaring up at her, spreading its wings and hissing menacingly. At least she would go last, that would give her time to rethink her strategy. She knew that this dragon was the fiercest of the bunch and was also highly resistant to spells. _Merde._ She felt Madame Maxime’s giant hand on her shoulder, giving her an encouraging squeeze. 

“Each of these represents a very real dragon, each of which has been given a special egg to protect. Your task is to collect the egg. You must succeed because the egg contains a clue to the next task. Without that clue, you have no hope of surviving! So let’s be sure to give it our all, shall we?” 

Fleur wondered what this man might be like on Christmas day if this is how excited he got over sending 4 teenagers into perilous and life threatening situations. She was hardly listening to him explain the scoring criteria, she didn’t care about the score. Her priority was figuring out a way to stay alive. Instead she was quietly reviewing everything she knew about this breed of dragon. It was aggressive, territorial, and highly intelligent. Unlike the Welsh Green, this dragon would attack unprovoked and would hunt its prey rather than wait for attack, making her sneak and spell strategy useless. Of the four dragons, she knew it was the most challenging. Saving the best for last.

It felt like she had barely had time to blink before it was her turn. Fleur took several deep breaths and started toward the tent opening, gripping her wand tightly.

The first thing she did when she stepped into the arena was cast her fire repelling charm. She saturated the thin cloth entirely, then quickly enlarged her scarf, wrapping it around her head. All that was visible of her face were two icy blue eyes staring out between the blue wrap. 

Thankfully the arena looked the same as last time, so she knew that the nest was positioned on the opposite side of the arena. A labyrinth of boulders stood between her and her prize. She crouched down behind the closest boulder and cast a quick silencing spell on her shoes, as well as a charm to mask her scent. It wasn’t much, but since the Horntail was a natural hunter, taking away any advantage would be wise. 

Once all of her spells were in place, her next order of business was to find and battle the dragon. _What was so hard about that?_

She moved quietly between the boulders, growing more unsettled as time passed without her being able to locate the dragon. _How could such a large creature hide so effectively?_

The answer hit her a moment later.

One second she was on the ground, the next she was soaring through the air like a human Bludger and the Horntail’s tail was the Beater’s bat.

 _“Arresto Momento!”_ She managed to slow herself just as she was about to hit a rocky ledge. It still hurt but at least it softened the blow. 

She felt blood starting to gush from her arm where one of the spikes impaled her but overall she was lucky that the dragon had hit her with the relatively blunt underside of its tail. If it had hit her with the top she would have been a human pincushion. Her ribs ached painfully, it was likely that at least one broken, probably more. She didn’t have time to dwell on this, as she saw the dragon hovering above her and lining up for another hit.

She tucked and rolled out of the way just as the giant spiked mace came crashing down against the rock she had been lying on moments before, sending sharp rocky shrapnel that cut into her soft skin. 

While her clothes made it easier for her to become fire resistant, the thin fabric did very little against brute force.

She needed to hide and get a strategy in place. With a quick wave of her wand, she summoned a giant dust cloud and sent it swirling upward to engulf the flying creature. The dragon shrieked with rage and she felt the ground vibrate as it landed.

Fleur used every second of the dragon’s distraction to her advantage, darting out from where she was hiding and finding a new rock. Every foot she managed to gain was one step closer to the egg and getting the hell out of this arena.

She peered out from behind the rock to confirm the dragon was still on the ground. If she could keep it from flying she might stand a chance. 

The Horntail thrashed its head, trying to rid its eyes of the dust, blindly spewing a giant flame in anger. Fortunately it seemed to have lost its lock on her and was looking in the opposite direction.

Fleur started waving her wand in elaborate movements, casting the Gemini Charm on herself, creating ten replicas, then sent them off running in all directions. Confused by the sudden influx of Fleurs, the dragon started lunging at whatever one was closest. 

She ran like hell, not looking over her shoulder. She didn’t particularly want to watch as the dragon ripped her doppelgangers pieces, anyway. She heard the audience gasping every time the dragon got another 'Fleur,' worried that it might have gotten the right one. She counted in the back of her head. 

There it was! The nest was 30 feet in front of her. She had 2 decoys left. She could do it. She leaped over the boulders and ran between the dusty paths. 1 decoy left.

She was on the same level as the nest now. It was a straight sprint to the finish. No decoys left.

She reached out and grabbed the egg as she ran by, cradling it under her arm. She heard the crowd go wild and six dragon handlers came running out of the sides of the arena to subdue the dragon. She sighed with relief. She had done it. The crowd was going wild, cheering and clapping for her.

Then applause quickly turned into fearful gasps. 

She turned to face the dragon, watching in horror as it fought its way through the dragon handlers. Now she was standing in the open with no support and a very, very angry dragon between her and safety.

The dragon started toward her, using the bend of its wings like forelegs, picking its way over the rocks. With a mighty breath, it roared and engulfed the French champion in a spray of red hot dragon fire.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione didn’t know what to do other than just watch as things played out. Time seemed to move in slow motion, like a horror movie and there was nothing she could do about it, not could she look away. In a matter of seconds, the Horntail had completely thrashed the six-person dragon handling team, and was making its way across the arena to Fleur at great speed. The blonde witch didn’t even have time to react before she was suddenly engulfed in a huge burst of flame. The fire burned so hot that she could feel the heat on her face.

The stands were all silent. No one dared speak as they watched what seemed like an endless barrage of fire from the Horntail. 

Hermione fell to her knees, her heart pounding in her chest. Her head swam as she rocked back and forth, holding her head between balled fists.  _ What had just happened?  _ She was overwhelmed by the crushing guilt. _ This wasn’t supposed to happen!  _ If she hadn’t messed with time then Fleur would be alive!

“Merlin’s saggin’ balls! Blimey! Hermione! Look!” Ginny was hitting her on the shoulder and waving excitedly. 

Hermione dreaded what she would see but she slowly got to her feet and looked. What she saw made her jaw drop. She watched, her eyes the size of dinner plates. She was afraid to blink, afraid she would miss something. 

A small swirling blue orb had appeared where the part-Veela had been standing moments ago. It slowly grew in size until it was about ten feet across. It looked like a giant ball of fire. The blue flames slowly traveled up the red hot path, overpowering the dragon fire as they made their way toward the dragon’s face. 

Just as the blue flame reached the dragon, the fiery blue orb exploded without warning. The force of the explosion was so great that it sent a shockwave of heat throughout the stands. The Horntail staggered back, shaking its head rapidly, clearly stunned and confused. 

And there, standing tall and proud with her hands outstretched, palms up and holding little blue flames, was Fleur. But not quite. She had fully transitioned into her Veela state. 

Hermione gazed in wonder at this new side of Fleur. She remembered seeing the Veela at the Quidditch World Cup the summer before her fourth year, but Fleur looked different from the Veela she had seen. 

Fleur was covered from head to scaled talons in feathers. Her wings were spread wide behind her, each was at least six feet long, giving her an impressive wingspan. Her head and wing feathers were a magnificent royal blue with silver tips, which gave the illusion of layered waves. The blue feathers faded at her chest and back into soft white plumage that covered the rest of her body down to her ‘knees’. 

Her hands were covered with thick white scales and the tips of her fingers had shifted into sharp talons, each about an inch long. Her legs were also covered in white scales from the ‘knee’ down. Her feet had taken on the form almost identical to a bird of prey. Three sharp claws faced forward while the rear claw curved in the opposite direction. Unlike her fingers, the claws on her feet were at least three inches and wickedly sharp.

Her face had shifted drastically, her nose and mouth had merged to form a powerful beak that was shiny and jet black like obsidian. Her eyes glowed bright red as she stared the dragon into submission, as if daring it to retaliate. 

The Horntail glared defiantly at the Veela but eventually dropped its head, resting its chin on the ground in defeat. It didn’t even struggle when a new wave of dragon handlers came rushing out. 

The Veela turned to retrieve her golden egg and promptly collapsed on the hard stone slab, exhausted from her efforts. 

Hermione was running through the stands toward the emergency medical tent in seconds. She didn’t stop when she heard Madame Pomfrey complaining about her unexplained presence. She stood next to the empty bed, presumably the one for Fleur. She saw Harry out of the corner of her eye, watching her curiously. He had come out of his task more or less unscathed but an intern healer was tending to some shallow cuts on his hands and face. She smiled at him and gave him a nod but her attention was pulled away by movement at the entrance to the tent. She would catch up with him later.

Seconds later, a burly redhead man came walking in carrying the unconscious Veela. He set her down on the available bed, carefully positioning her on her side so her wings didn’t get crushed. 

“Hey Charlie. Is she okay?” Hermione looked at the second son of the Weasley family. 

“I think she’ll be fine, just plum tuckered out! I can’t believe she single handedly took on a Horntail like that when my six best couldn’t manage the job! Fuckin’ amazing if you ask me! Just fuckin' incredible! If I hadn't been watching for myself, I wouldn't believe it!”

Hermione nodded in agreement “It was incredible… aside from her scaring the shit out of me.”

Charlie grinned and held out a leather bag to Hermione “Hey, would you give this to her when she wakes up. She earned it. Don’t go opening it, Granger. It’s for her.”

Hermione took the bag and shot him an indignant scowl. “I wasn’t going to!”

Charlie just smiled and saluted before going to check on his team. 

Gabrielle came rushing in next, launching herself at Hermione and clutching her around the waist. Hermione was too shocked to say anything. Must be a French thing. Or just a scared little sister thing. She was surprised the young girl trusted her so much. She didn’t realize Gabrielle even remembered her, having only met her a few days ago. They had never interacted in the previous timeline. Evangeline came next and stood on the other side of the bed, looking surprisingly calm. 

“Well, zat was certainly unexpected.” The brunette part-Veela chuckled as she gazed at her friend, then looked up to catch Hermione’s worried eyes. “Do not worry, she will be fine. She just needs to sleep eet off. Eet might ‘elp eef you ‘eld ‘er ‘and.”

Hermione furrowed her brow but didn’t question it. She carefully pulled an arm free from Gabrielle’s clutches and intertwined their fingers. The scales on Fleur’s hand were rough and scratchy. She was surprised when she felt Fleur’s fingers flex and tighten slightly, but the grip was mostly one sided. 

They stood in silence, watching and waiting. Madame Pomfrey didn’t have training working with Veela and she needed Fleur to transition back so she could give her a proper inspection.

After about ten minutes, Fleur twitched, her beak opening and closing. Hermione couldn’t hear anything but it sounded like soft hisses and chittering noises.

“She ees calling for you.” Gabrielle looked up at the brunette.

“Why?”

“She trusts you.” Evangeline answered quickly, shooting Gabrielle a look to silence the child. Hermione was too focused on Fleur to notice though. “Do not worry, eet ees a Veela thing.”

One by one the other Champions were released from the medical tent. Harry came to stand by the young women huddled around the Veela “Hey, Hermione. How’s she doing?” He rubbed her back gently.

Hermione looked over at her friend and gave him a soft smile. “She’s fine now that she’s not stuck in there with that blasted dragon. You did brilliantly by the way!”

Harry grinned proudly “Thanks! Glad I got my head around that summoning spell, would have been a lot harder on foot!” He looked between Hermione and Fleur “I’ll… I’ll see you in the common room later, yeah?”

Hermione nodded, grateful that her friend wasn’t asking questions or pressuring her. “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you later.”

The Boy Who Lived hoisted his egg under his arm and left the tent.

Hermione went back to staring at Fleur. She felt like she was in a daze. She was trying to process the afternoon's events, but it all felt so overwhelming that she couldn't focus. It felt like there was a thick blanket of fog in her mind covering her other thoughts. All that she could think clearly about was the girl in front of her. After a while, she felt Fleur’s grip get much stronger and her body started shaking and convulsing as she started screeching, her sharp beak clacking as if she was in pain.

“Zis ees eet! Gabrielle, grab ‘er middle, I ‘ave ‘er legs.” Evangeline exclaimed and leaned over the table to pin down the powerful scaled legs, carefully avoiding the strong talons.

“What should I do?” Hermione started to panic..

“Just talk to ‘er! Try to keep ‘er calm.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Eet does not matter, just calm stuff! Reassure ‘er or somezzing!” Evangeline huffed, still struggling against Fleur’s legs, trying to prevent her from kicking out.

Hermione felt ridiculous but she did as Evangeline instructed “Fleur… Fleur if you can hear me, it’s okay. You’re safe now. We’re here for you and you don’t need to worry. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Fleur’s eyes opened wide and she started to calm. She looked up, completely fixated on the brunette’s chocolate brown gaze.

“Zat ees perfect, ‘Ermione. Keep going.” Gabrielle encouraged. 

“You can come back now… Come back to us.” Hermione reached out with her free hand and gently stroked Fleur’s cheek, marveling at how soft the feathers were. “Come back to me. Please.”

Fleur stilled completely and gave a quiet squawk. 

Hermione felt the hand in hers start to soften, scales gave way to pale skin. In seconds, there was a giant pile of feathers on the bed, covering the young woman entirely.

“‘Ermione…”

“Hey, Fleur.”

“Am I dead?”

“Not yet, but you’re about to be because of the fright you gave us all!” Hermione huffed “Seriously!”

“I am sorry, mon ami.” Fleur blinked up at her, her crystal blue eyes still a little unfocused. “What ‘appened?”

“Do you not remember?”

Fleur shook her head softly, groaning. “I feel like I got ‘it wizz a… ‘ow do you say… ze Knight Bus?”

“Your Veela took over, Fleur. You’ve been out a while.” Evangeline supplied the explanation.

“Ah, well, zat explains ze feazzers. Can someone get me a robe, please. I do not want to walk zrough ‘Ogwarts naked.” 

Gabrielle quickly moved away to go get something for her sister to wear.

Hermione blushed brightly, not realizing that under that thin layer of feathers was a very naked Fleur. She turned her head away, staring at a particularly interesting speck on the tent’s ceiling.

“Are you embarrassed by zat, ‘Ermione?” Fleur’s voice was full of amusement. “Eet ees just a body.”

“Erm, no… I mean… I guess we’re all girls here… I just didn’t realize. I don’t want to uh… I thought you might want some modesty.”

Fleur shrugged slightly “Modesty? I am French. And I am Veela. We zink zat ze body ees a beautiful zing, Zere ees no need to be ashamed or embarrassed. You British are such prudes.”

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but Gabrielle returned and handed Fleur a set of black robes.

Fleur carefully rolled over, her back to Hermione, and pulled on the robes. “Zere, you can look again, ‘Ermione. I am covered. I would not want to hurt your poor innocent eyes.”

Hermione just rolled her eyes at the cheeky part-Veela.

Fleur was standing on the opposite side of the bed with a big grin, clearly enjoying teasing her. She reached down and picked up one of her long wing feathers “‘Ere, as an apology for scaring you.” She turned to Evangeline. “You know what to do wizz ze rest.”

Evangeline simply nodded and waved her wand, collecting all of the feathers into a tight ball that levitated at her side.

Hermione furrowed her brow, watching the older Beauxbatons students with great interest and confusion but before she could launch into her long list of questions, Madame Pomfrey returned and shooed the three uninjured girls away so she could finally tend to her patient.

“I assure you, Madame. I am ‘ealed. Ze transition took care of my injuries. I am just sore.”

“Be that as it may, Miss Delacour, I must insist that I give you a thorough inspection! If I am satisfied by your condition then this shall be a very short inspection and I shall discharge you in no time at all. But until then, sit!”

Fleur pouted but sat down on the bed. She caught Hermione’s eye as the brunette was leaving the tent “I will see you soon. Wait for me in ze Carriage? You can go een wizz Evangeline as a chaperone. Eef Maxime complains, tell ‘er you are my guest. Gabrielle can let you into my room.”

The three witches headed back towards the Beauxbatons Carriage. Gabrielle was cradling the golden egg like her life depended on it, her tiny fingers tracing the strange markings on the shell. Hermione was still carrying the leather bag and Evangeline was levitating the feather ball beside her. Along the way, Evangeline set the bundle of feathers on fire.

““What was that for?” Hermione watched the once beautiful feathers turn to ash midair. 

“We do not allow parts of our bodies to be used wizzout our permission. Eet ees Veela custom.” Evangeline shrugged and then continued walking as if nothing had happened. 

“Really?” She subconsciously twirled her feather between her thumb and index finger.

As if reading Hermione’s mind, Evangeline explained “Fleur gave you zat as a gift of ‘er own choice.”

Hermione looked at her feather in a new light. Sure it was pretty, but she didn’t realize how significant of a gift it was. 

“Zere was a time zat we were ‘unted, ‘arvested for our body parts. Treated like animals.” Evangeline’s voice was hard as she explained, “Eet was not a good time for us. We almost went extinct because of ze wizards’ greed. Zere used to be large colonies of Veela zroughout ze world.”

“Wow… I never... I am so sorry to hear that!“ 

“Eet ees fine, we do not usually talk of our ‘istory. Especially out of ze Clan.”

“I know the Veela are very secretive.”

“We must be. Eet ees for our protection.”

“So, why are you telling me then?”

Evangeline faltered for the briefest moment “Because eet ees as I said earlier. Fleur trusts you. Zerefore so do I.”

Hermione just nodded and continued walking in silence.

Hermione was struck by the beauty and grandeur of the inside of the Carriage. The space inside was huge. It looked like she had stepped into Versailles. It was bright and open, adorned with lavish furnishings. The walls were painted like a piece of Renaissance art, the nymphs and satyrs moving about through the scenes. A huge crystal chandelier hung over the sitting area. There was a staircase up to a second floor. Evangeline explained that it was just more rooms.

Gabrielle bounced down the hall on the first floor and let herself into Fleur’s room. Fleur had placed a blood ward on it so that only one with Delacour blood could open the door.

The older girls followed once the door was open.

Hemione looked around the room. It was beautiful but surprisingly modest. The walls were a soft lavender color. The large bed was covered by a thick, puffy white duvet with a blue floral pattern placed against the wall to the right. A wardrobe was placed along the opposite wall next to a vanity. There was also a bookshelf and desk on the wall opposite of the door, the desk centered around a large window that overlooked the Forbidden Forest. There was a chaise lounge in the corner by the bookshelf, which Hermione took, facing Gabrielle and Evangeline, who were sitting on the bed. As much as she wanted to go look at what Fleur was reading, she did not want to intrude on Fleur’s privacy. There was also a door that led to the bathroom. 

Hermione’s mind was swirling with so many questions that she didn’t know where to start. Nor was she sure that Evangeline would or could answer them. She thought she’d start with some simple ones to break the ice.

“So, how long have you known Fleur?”

“Mmm… she and I ‘ave been roommates since our first year at ze Academy. Clearly we are not roommates now. We all ‘ave our own room ‘ere in ze Carriage. My room ees down ze ‘all.”

“Is Beauxbatons like Hogwarts, with 7 years of study? What subjects do you learn there?”

They fell into light conversation about the difference in their school experiences. Evangeline was shocked to find out how much Hermione had experienced while on school grounds. Trolls in her first year, a Basilisk in the next, followed by Dementors and werewolves. 

“Attending ‘Ogwarts seems dangerous for ze ‘ealth.”

“You know, I sometimes agree… but at least it keeps things interesting.”

“Zat ees one word for eet.”

“Can I ask you some things about the Veela? I understand if you can’t answer them, but I’m just so curious.”

Evangeline simply nodded.

“Why was it so hard for Fleur to transition back?”

“Because she did not shift of her own choosing. A Veela can sometimes overtake ze body and mind in life zreatening situations. Once in control, a Veela does not want to relinquish ze power.”

Hermione nodded slowly, taking that in. “Otherwise it’s an easier transition?”

“For a full Veela, yes. 'Onestly, eet ees rare for a part-Veela to actually fully transform like that. But Fleur ees very strong, even eef ‘er blood ees not pure-Veela.”

Gabrielle looked up from the bed where she was cradling the egg “Eet was ze first time I’ve seen Fleur transform. Maman will be so interested to know!”

Hermione sputtered “You mean to tell me that if she didn’t transition there was a chance she wouldn’t have survived!?!” 

“Do not worry, mon ami, I am tougher zan I look.” Fleur’s soft lilt filled the room. 

Hermione looked over at the blonde who was leaning against the door frame. She was looking rather smug, her hip cocked to the side, her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes were bright, a little tired, but that was to be expected. “You look good in Gryffindor red, Fleur.”

“Zank you. Now I ‘ave ze 'ole ‘Ogwarts experience. Zough zese robes are not so flattering… and very drafty een certain areas, non? ‘Ow do you stand eet?”

Hermione blushed “Well, we usually wear clothes underneath, not just the robe.”

“Oh, zat makes sense zen.” Fleur grinned and pushed off, walking over to sit on the bed next to her sister. “Zank you for ‘olding onto zat for me, little monster.”

Gabrielle passed it over “Are you going to open it?”

Fleur shook her head “Maybe later, I am razzer tired and I do not want to zink about ze tournament for at least a week.”

That jogged Hermione’s memory “Oh, Charlie Weasley dropped this off for you.” She held out the leather bag that was squirming a little.

“Oh, what ees eet?” Fleur raised an eyebrow as she took the bag.

“I don’t know, it’s your gift.”

“Mmm…” Fleur hummed and released the drawstring. The tiny Horntail crawled its way out of the bag. When it saw her it dipped its head respectfully before crawling onto her hand. “Zere must be a sort of connection between zis and ze real dragon. Eet bit me when I picked eet.” She held it up to her face, looking intently at it “You will be’ave yourself, non?” she addressed the tiny creature. 

It looked down sheepishly and curled up on her palm.

“Wow, a mini-dragon!” Gabrielle exclaimed excitedly. 

The Horntail looked up quickly and regarded the small Veela for a moment before baring its teeth menacingly as it hissed.

Fleur immediately chastised it and held it up to Gabrielle, then Hermione and Evangeline, telling it that these three were friends and it was not to be mean to them. The dragon huffed and laid back down.

Fleur smiled at the others “Well, just zink. One task down, two to go!”


	12. Chapter 12

Fleur was surprised by the mixed reactions she was getting in the aftermath of her revealing her Veela form. It was the full spectrum from curious to impressed to completely disgusted. 

A small handful looked at her with awe because she beat the Horntail singlehandedly. She appreciated that they recognized just how powerful she was because it truly was a noteworthy feat. 

Some people would walk right up to her and start asking her prying and invasive questions about her Veela heritage. All of which she refused to answer. 

Others looked at her like they might regard an animal at the zoo, their hands pressed up against the window as they observed. They would watch with curiosity from afar as if trying to gauge how dangerous she was to be around. She didn’t mind this, at least they gave her a healthy passing distance. 

The rest looked at her like she was more disgusting than the dirt beneath their shoe. No surprise who was leading the charge on that one. Unsurprising, once the little ferret wrote home, there was a loud outcry for her to be removed from the Tournament. Bagman handled the situation with surprising grace, stating that the Goblet chose her as a legitimate Champion, even with her Veela blood. As long as she didn’t use it to her advantage in the tasks, she would not be penalized.

Fleur just ignored it all, holding her head up high when she wandered the grounds, refusing to hide or be ashamed of her heritage. There was nothing else she could really do, hundreds of people saw it, so there was no point in trying to deny it. 

Aside from the extra gawking and whispers, Fleur was satisfied with how things had played out in the Tournament. She was in 1st place with a two point lead over Harry. Apparently the judges were impressed by her spellwork she had cast pre-Veela barbeque. However, they made it clear that anything that happened after she retrieved the egg was not considered part of the tournament and therefore was not to be taken into account in the judging process. 

Krum had the lowest score due to penalties he incurred because he caused damage to the nest and several of the real eggs were destroyed in the process.

Now that the First Task was complete, she had significantly more free time. As a reward for her performance, the remaining week of her detention was cleared. Maxime had also determined that she had earned a break from her hardcore training, provided that she continued to try to ‘solve the egg’ puzzle. She had confirmed the night after the First Task that the key to the egg was still water and the clue was the same as before. The Black Lake, one hour, one treasure. So now she had nothing pressing to deal with other than keep up with her homework, which was all fine and well for her. It allowed her the opportunity to spend more time with a certain witch.

Fleur spent practically every evening in the library with Hermione, just reading quietly with the bookworm in companionable silence. She didn’t mind, she was an avid reader herself and the Hogwarts Library had lots of books she had not read before. And it was peaceful. The stern librarian always stopped her gaggle of followers at the door. After a week the boys learned it was a lost cause to try to follow her inside, so the library became her safe haven. A temporary sanctuary. She found peace tucked between dusty shelves and enveloped in the smell of old parchment. Hermione had shown her the best places to hide away from prying eyes. 

She didn’t know why, but she loved watching the young Gryffindor study, pouring over the books. There was something endearing about Hermione in the library, she looked comfortable and in her element with her hands stained with ink and nose deep in a book. 

It seemed that the girl was intent to absorb as much information as possible, regardless of topic. One day she would be reading about Cornish Pixies and the next day she would be nose deep in theories of ancient Mayan wards. Fleur could tell when Hermione was particularly excited about a certain topic. There seemed to be a correlation between her hair’s level of unruliness and her interest level. 

Whatever she was reading tonight was a doozy. Hermione was feverishly studying the text, her nose practically touching the pages of the giant tome she was reading. She was clearly fully invested, her hair was sticking out more than usual and she could have sworn she saw an occasional spark of energy discharging from the tips of Hermione’s hair.

Fleur giggled to herself and turned back to her own story. She was reading a book of Muggle poetry, but it was unlike any poetry she had ever read before. 

“Zis Poe fellow… was ‘e right in ze ‘ead? Eet ees very dark, non?” She closed the book when she had finished.

Hermione didn’t miss a beat, even though she didn’t look up from her text “Hmm? Poe? Well, he had a troubled life.”

“I see…” Fleur nodded and kept watching Hermione as sparks flew, quite literally.

After a moment, Hermione looked up, sensing Fleur’s intense gaze “What? Is something wrong? Did I get ink on my chin again?”

“Non, you look perfect.” Fleur grinned and set down her book, holding Hermione’s soft chocolate gaze with her own.

Hermione blushed “Oh… thank you… so what is it? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I was just observing zat you are wise beyond your years, ‘ermiome. I can see eet een your eyes. Eet surprises me.”

“Well that’s rather obvious, don’t you think? I’m taking 7th year classes.”

“Non, zat ees not what I mean. Wisdom and book smarts are very different. You are bozz...”

“Now I know you are teasing me. No one calls me wise.”

“You wound my ‘onor, Mademoiselle. Claiming zat I would stoop so low as to tease you! Ze nerve. I would do no such zing! I am merely stating a true point.” Fleur smirked playfully.

“Uh huh, not teasing at all.”

“Maybe just a little. I am ‘ungry, would you like to join me for dinner or stay ‘ere?”

Hermione sat up and stretched her arms over her head, arching her back a bit. “Mm, that sounds lovely. I think I could use a break.” 

“What were you reading about? You seemed very invested. Your ‘air was crackling.” Fleur gestured with her hands, mimicking the sparks. 

“Oh nothing special. Just looking at ancient languages. A bit of light reading.” Hermione blushed, ignoring Fleur’s quip about ‘light reading’ as she shoved the book into her bag. “I will finish it later tonight.”

“Bon.” Fleur smiled and put away her books and parchment in her bag and followed Hermione out of the library. 

Once in the ‘talking safe zone,’ Fleur turned to Hermione. “I want to zank you.”

Hermione blinked “Thank me? For what?”

“For being my friend. You don’t treat me differently because of my Veela blood. And I enjoy your company. Eet ees nice to ‘ave someone to talk wizz. I ‘ave Evangeline of course and Gabrielle… but…” Fleur trailed off.

Hermione smiled sadly. She remembered that Fleur had told her she was so lonely in school, always second guessing people’s motives. Either under the influence of her thrall or trying to garner favor with the Delacour clan through her. She put her hand on the Champion’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“I get it. Well, not entirely, our situations are very different. Most people just think of me as a know-it-all or Harry Potter’s friend or a ticket to getting their homework done when they procrastinate. I really only have Harry, Ginny, and Ron.” Hermione left out Luna, they wouldn’t become good friends until next year. 

“Ah, oui. Ron Weasley… ze aubergine... ermm, eggplant, non?”

Hermione chuckled. She couldn’t argue Ron’s resemblance to the vegetable when he was in Fleur’s presence. “Don’t be cruel. He is not good around women. He does not know how to behave.”

“But you do not be’ave zat way. Does zat mean that you are good wizz women zen?” Fleur smirked.

“Yes I am.” Hermione spoke without thinking. Her eyes shot wide and she opened and closed her mouth a few times, searching for words. “I... I mean, I am a woman. So of course I am comfortable...” She quickly covered.

Fleur laughed softly, her giggle sounded like soft wind chimes in the breeze. “You are very funny, ‘Ermione Granger.”

The two witches continued to make their way to the Great Hall tossing playful banter back and forth as they walked together. As they approached the Hall, their path was blocked by a swarm of students gathered around a poster. Everyone was chattering excitedly. 

“Hmm, I wonder what is going on up there.” Hermione mused. It became clear in a matter of seconds. 

A fifth year Ravenclaw boy approached Fleur. He looked nervous, wringing his hands behind his back. “Would you accompany me to the Yule Ball?”

Fleur raised her eyebrow. “Zank you for asking but non.”

The boy blinked, “I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”

“Zen I will repeat myself. I said zank you but non. Bonne chance and please let us pass.”

The boy didn’t move, so Fleur swept around him with a huff. She didn’t realize it but at some point in time she had taken hold of Hermione’s hand as she made her escape down the hallway. She was muttering angrily under her breath. 

“What’s that? Did you say something?” Hermione was practically running to keep up. She was surprised when Fleur grabbed her hand but she wasn’t going to pull away. 

“I said I ‘ad forgotten about zis damn Ball.”

“How did you know? That poster just went up.”

Fleur was cursing herself at her slip up but she didn’t miss a beat “we were told zere would be a Ball before we came. Zat way we could pack an outfit.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

Fleur was glad that Hermione seemed satisfied by her response and didn’t ask any further questions. In the short time it took them to get to dinner, she had received 5 new invitations. Hermione received two, which she also politely declined. _So much for peace and quiet_ , _it was fun while it lasted._

A few days after the announcement of the Yule Ball, Fleur and Evangeline were chatting in her room, their homework long forgotten.

« Soooooo… Are you going to ask her? » Evangeline flopped down on the giant bed, stretching out and getting comfortable.

« Ask who? »

« Don’t play dumb, Fleur. It’s not a becoming look for the Delacour heiress. »

Fleur raised an eyebrow, challenging her friend. « I… I don’t know if she is even interested in me like that. » 

« Oh, so you’re not dumb. You’re an idiot! »

« Excuse me? » Fleur rolled over on her side to glare at her friend, her head propped up on her fist.

« That girl likes you. She stood by you the entire time you transitioned back. She was the one who brought you back. Not me. Not Gabrielle. You know what that means. »

«  I don’t want to be rejected. » Fleur said quietly.

« Well, no one _wants_ to be rejected, but I think we both know what her answer will be. »

«I don’t know, Eva… » 

« You should make up your mind. You wouldn’t want someone else to take your girl as a date, would you? » Evangeline grinned wickedly as a thought crossed her mind « Hey, wait… if you’re not going to ask her, does that mean she’s fair game? You wouldn’t mind if I asked her then? »

Fleur hissed at the thought of someone else having their hands on her mate.

« See… that reaction tells me everything. »

«You forget your place, DesJardins. I am your alpha. »

« Yeah, you might be the alpha, but I’m the friend who has to remind my idiotic alpha that she has a pair. Because she seems to have forgotten about them and is acting like a scared little chick. »

Fleur opened her mouth to retort but her friend did make a point. 

« Just Veela up and ask her already! Stop dragging your feet like a lovesick idiot. Please, for my sake. It’s getting painful to watch you two idiots. »

Fleur simply grabbed her pillow and started smacking her friend wherever she could reach. Maybe Evangeline was right… 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was annoyed that Fleur had started isolating herself again to try to get a break from the constant stream of invitations to the Yule Ball. But at the same time she couldn’t really hold it against her. Fleur was barely able to walk between classes without someone new approaching her. But she missed seeing the blonde witch that she had grown rather fond of. This version of Fleur reminded her very much of the one she remembered from before she went on the Horcrux hunt. Maybe this time around they would become friends sooner and she might be able to spend more time with her.

News of the Yule Ball had whipped the students into a frenzy. It was all anyone was talking about. Hermione had decided that she was not going to go this time and had turned down a surprising number of invitations. There was only one invitation she would accept, anyway. But the invitation never came and Fleur avoided talking about the Ball. She wouldn’t deny that she felt a little disappointed. 

She was walking down the corridor one afternoon on her way to Ancient Runes class. As she approached the room, she heard a familiar voice coming from inside the classroom, the door was ajar. She paused and listened from the doorway. She could hear Fleur talking, though she couldn’t hear anyone else in the room. Fleur sounded distressed. 

“God, I am such a coward. Why can’t I just pluck up the courage to ask her? I mean, I faced down a Hungarian Horntail for fuck’s sake. Why is this so difficult?” Fleur’s voice trailed off and Hermione couldn’t make out any words beyond what she had just heard. She wondered if she should interrupt or just let the blonde have her moment of panic.

“Fleur? Are you okay?”

Fleur’s head whipped around, glaring in the direction of intrusion at the door. Her gaze instantly softened when she saw Hermione standing there. “Bonjour ‘Ermione.”

Hermione slowly slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, “What happened to your accent?”

Fleur paused, her lips pursed, eyes darting back and forth as if she was trying to decide what to say. “Fine… you caught me. I don’t really have an accent. It was just an act.”

Hermione furrowed her brow and gestured to the empty seat next to where Fleur was pacing about. 

Neither said anything for several long minutes. Fleur watched her out of the corner of her eye. The brunette was worrying at her lip as if mulling over something in her mind. 

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you pretend to have an accent?”

Fleur shrugged as if it was obvious. “It’s easier for me this way. People see me and assume I am just a pretty face, which I mean, they’re not wrong, I am rather good looking… but I’m more than that. So much more. But I allow others to underestimate me. I have found that it makes it that much easier to exceed expectations and gets me further along in the end. I know from experience that people get intimidated if I come on too strong and are unwilling to listen or work with me. It’s counterintuitive but it works.” 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully before speaking again. “That’s… really sad.” She dropped her gaze to her hands, which she had folded in her lap. “I didn’t realize the lengths you have to go to uphold some silly image for the comfort of others. It must be hard for you.”

“I got used to it. Contrary to what people think, I have rather thick skin. I am not a porcelain doll, I will not easily break. But don’t tell anyone. I have an image to uphold after all.” Fleur’s eyes darted to the side, drawing attention to the fact that other students were starting to trickle in. She leaned in and whispered into Hermione’s ear. “But I’m glad I do not have to hide around you anymore. I want you to see me for who I really am. I hated lying to you.”

Hermione shivered as Fleur’s breath tickled her ear “Right… err… well, your secret is safe with me.”

“Zank you, ‘Ermione.”

Hermione’s heart broke a little when she heard Fleur slip so easily into her facade. 

After a week of listening to Harry complain about Ron’s constant bitching about how he couldn’t get a date, Hermione had finally had enough. 

They were walking together through the halls on their way to dinner one evening, Harry was once again spiraling as he stressed about getting a date to the Ball and Hermione put her foot down. Literally. She stomped her foot hard to get her friend’s attention. “You boys are so stupid! Stop acting as if girls have dragon pox or something and just go for it. It’s easy!”

Harry looked at her, his green eyes flashing defiantly “For the record, I tried! I asked Cho, don’t you remember? It was horrible.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and started walking again “It’s not horrible… You just walk up to someone you fancy and say ‘would you like to go to the Ball with me?’

“Oui, I would love zat.”

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, she hadn’t realized they had walked so close to a gaggle of Beauxbatons girls. 

Hermione blinked when she saw Fleur staring intently at her. “Pardon?”

“You just asked me to ze Ball, non?” Fleur’s eyes were twinkling brightly.

Hermione blushed and stuttered “oh, uh... I was just telling Harry how to ask out a girl to the Ball...”

“So eet was not on purpose? You do not want to go to ze Ball wizz me?”

“No! I mean... yes! I mean…”

“Perfect, eet ees a date zen.” Fleur grinned and planted two kisses on Hermione’s flushed skin, one on either cheek. With a wink she pulled away “and zat, Monsieur Potter, ees ‘ow eet ees done.”

Hermione stood still, completely flabbergasted, watching with wide eyes as the alluring blonde spun on her heel and strutted away, noting the extra pep in her step. _Oh Merlin, what had she just done?_ She couldn’t retract her invitation! All of Fleur’s classmates had heard, as had Harry. And truthfully she didn’t want to retract the invitation, she was worried about how people would react to two witches going to the Ball together. The wizarding world wasn’t exactly open to same-sex couples.

“Blimey, Hermione!” Harry sputtered. “You’re going to the Yule Ball with Fleur Delacour! I didn’t know you even were interested in her!”

“I’m not interested in her like that. We are going as friends!” Hermione hedged

Harry’s eyes twinkled “Not the way I saw it, and from the looks of it, Fleur didn’t think it was just ‘friends’ either… Ron is going to shit his pants...”

“Oh God... Ron…” Hermione groaned, remembering how the redhead had reacted to her date with Viktor in the previous timeline. “Please don’t tell him. Let me break the news, okay?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Hermione. So… were you ever going to tell me you’ve been hanging out with Fleur behind our backs?”

Hermione sputtered “I… how did you know?”

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are…” Harry moved his cloak, revealing the Marauder’s Map in his inner pocket.

“Harry James Potter! Have you been spying!?!” Hermione started bombarding him with smacks on his shoulder.

Harry just grinned and took off running down the hall to avoid getting hit again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“She is strong, My Lord. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Good… bring her to me.“

“Of course, My Lord… I will not fail you.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, remember that Ron Weasley Bashing tag? Yeah... it's starting.

Hermione was a ball of nerves. The Yule Ball was in two short weeks and she had so much to get done to prepare. To make matters worse, her professors were heaping on extra homework assignments and quizzes in preparation for the end of term exams. While she knew all of the content, it still took her valuable time to finish. Time she could be worrying about her upcoming date. Not a date. Maybe a date? It was all rather confusing. 

No! She couldn’t allow herself to get distracted from her mission. She had read every book in the library on ancient languages, runes, symbols and pretty much anything else she could find that she thought was useful and she was no closer to deciphering the Time Turner mystery. It was beyond aggravating. 

They had about 6 months before the final task but that still wasn’t a lot of time. But maybe a break was just what she needed? Maybe she could let loose for a night. So she stopped worrying about the pile of unsolved mysteries on her plate and started worrying about something she could handle. Preparing for the Yule Ball.

She sent in an order for hair styling products and also for new dress robes. Somehow the pink dress with frilly sleeves that she had originally brought pre-time jump just didn’t seem to fit the situation. It had worked for her back when she was actually 15, but she was older now and wanted to look more sophisticated. She was determined to look her absolute best for Fleur. 

As the Ball approached, she was finding it increasingly difficult to focus. Her moods kept waffling back and forth between waves of giddy excitement and gnawing doubt. It seemed that everything around her reminded her of Fleur or the Ball. 

She no longer dreaded seeing Fleur around the halls. Before their date-not-date was confirmed, she had been quietly worrying that maybe Fleur would accept a date with someone else. She hadn’t realized how much the uncertainty had been weighing on her. It had been selfish of her, especially since she hadn’t even planned on attending the Ball in the first place. The thought of Fleur showing up with Roger Davies again made her stomach churn unpleasantly. Not this time. This time it would be her on Fleur’s arm. Her dancing with her through the night. She smiled at the thought, her head suddenly floating on clouds. 

But there was still the issue of Ron. Being the 6th son, she knew that Ron had issues with feeling inadequate and overshadowed. Unfortunately he chose to deflect blame on others rather than admit he had done something wrong. Or he would try to twist the situation to make himself the victim so people would overlook his faults and pity him. Either way, when paired with the temper that ran in the Weasley family, it was a volatile mix waiting to explode. So trying to figure out a way to tell him about her and Fleur was going to be a very delicate situation.

When she had come out to them while on the Horcrux hunt, Harry had taken it well. Ron… not so much. She knew from previous experience that he had a secret crush on her back in school but had never acted on it. Of course, he picked the middle of the woods during a war to admit his love for her. But when she told him she was gay and didn’t think of him the same way, he took her coming out as a personal rejection of his feelings. And it led to a fight of epic proportions. 

In fact he was so mad he left them for a few months. Harry, being more open minded and rational, chose to stay with her, for which she would be forever grateful. It seemed that this time around, Harry was catching on earlier but so far was being the kind and supportive brother she remembered and needed. 

Hermione kept trying to find ways to ease Ron into the conversation about Fleur without setting off his temper but he wasn’t giving her the chance. He was too busy being shocked by the idea that she actually had a date to listen to her, constantly railroading the conversation back to trying to find out who it was. Just like last time. _Immature git_. 

But this uncertainty about Ron was bleeding into other aspects of her life, filling her with more doubts. After she had gotten over her initial shock, she realized that she was ecstatic that Fleur had actually accepted her accidental invitation. Confused but still ecstatic. And despite what she kept telling herself, she really wanted to believe what Harry had said was true, that Fleur actually wanted to go with her as an actual date. But the logical side of her quickly banished the thought. 

Fleur probably just accepted because she trusted Hermione. They were friends, after all. It just made too much sense. Why else would she want to go with her? Sure they spent a lot of time hanging out together, but at the library, or passing notes in class, or running around the Lake. Nothing about their activities was particularly romantic. Aside from a few flirty remarks here and there, Fleur hadn’t really shown any interest in being “more than friends.” _No. They were just friends_ , she kept telling herself. But the more she said it, the more it hurt. 

In that moment Hermione not only realized but _accepted_ the fact that she had a massive crush on the blonde Veela. _Oh, sweet Morgana that wasn’t supposed to happen…_

She huffed and tossed her quill on the desk, splattering ink all over her transfiguration essay. “Damn it.” She hissed under her breath and quickly used her hand to siphon the mess off of her roll of parchment. It was the one wandless spell she had mastered. Mostly out of necessity. Luckily, the Gryffindor Common Room was empty for a change, so there were no witnesses to her outburst or display of power. Everyone was outside having a massive snowball fight that the Weasley Twins had started, taking advantage of the fresh powder that had been falling all day.

Seeing that it was a lost cause to try to finish her essay, she packed up her homework and headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. Maybe a little break was what she needed.

Hermione was midway through her plate of bangers and mash when Harry, Ginny and Ron came in, their cheeks flushed bright red from the cold, bits of snow and ice stuck in their hair. They were all grinning and joking around.

“Hey Hermione!” Ginny plopped down next to her “Missed you at the snowball fight.”

“I had things to get done. Unlike you three, some of us want to get our homework done in advance so we can enjoy the break…”

“Likely story, ‘Mione…” Ron started shoving food from the serving plate directly into his mouth without it even touching his plate. The boy had the _worst_ table manners of anyone. “You were probably snogging your mystery beau.”

“I was not!” Hermione huffed indignantly, holding up her hand to show the ink stains.

“Come on, why won’t you tell us? Are you embarrassed or something?” Ginny grinned and nudged her with her shoulder.

“Shove off you two. This is precisely why I don’t want to tell you, you nosy prats!” Hermione stabbed her food angrily.

“Blimey, she just looks more beautiful every time I see her…” Ron interrupted, staring off, his eyes glassy and distant. Hermione turned to follow his line of sight and her heart skipped a beat or two.

Fleur had just entered with Evangeline, Gabrielle, and a handful of other Beauxbatons students. They were all chattering excitedly and Hermione noticed that Fleur’s cheeks were also flushed and there was a bit of snow on her powder blue cloak. She had to agree with Ron, she looked like a snow angel. Had she been a part of the impromptu snowball fight, too? If she had known that, she definitely would have put aside her homework to play. 

But as much as she liked spending time with Fleur, she thought it was equally important that they still did some things independently. In her experience, she had seen too many people lose themselves in their relationship, their lives becoming so intertwined that they became totally different people. She refused to let that happen to her. 

“I just can’t believe someone like that exists…” Ron continued to ramble nonsensically. 

Harry just rolled his eyes as he scooped peas and carrots onto his plate. “Yeah, mate… just keep dreaming. You’ve got about a snowball’s chance in hell with that one.” He subtly winked at Hermione.

Ron, however, seemed to misunderstand Harry’s comment entirely and seemed to take it as confirmation that he _did_ _have_ _a_ chance. With a broad grin, he jumped up from his seat. “Right you are, Harry! I _do_ have a chance and I’m man enough to take it!” Apparently he had not gotten the memo that Fleur was no longer available.

“Ron? What are you doing, mate?” Harry watched his friend with wide eyes “RON! Stop!”

Even Ginny seemed to grasp the dire nature of this situation and she reached over to grab Ron’s robes to stop him but he wiggled free of her grasp. “Bloody hell… this… this isn’t good, is it?” The other two just shook their heads.

But the bullheaded redhead wasn’t listening to reason and was already marching his way across the Great Hall. His sister and best friends were watching, completely shocked and horrified as he came to a stop behind Fleur and cleared his throat loudly to get her attention. It sounded like a purple-backed horned toad had launched itself in his throat. _How charming._

Hermione could only watch, her mouth agape as Ron made the biggest ass of himself for pretty much the entire school to see. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but the look in Fleur’s eye spoke volumes. If looks could kill, the glare she was giving Ron would have been more effective than the Killing Curse.

“Monsieur Weasley…” Fleur got to her feet and stared him down. Even with his recent growth spurts, she was several inches taller than him in her heels. “Zat ees no way to speak to any woman and I am appalled zat you would zink zat was een any way appropriate. Now zat I know zat is ‘ow you view ze female species, eet ees no surprise to me as to why you are still looking for a date. I wish you well een your endeavors but I ‘umbly request zat you leave me and my friends in peace.”

Ron was beet red and mumbled something under his breath as he turned away to make his escape.

“‘Ow dare you say zat!” Fleur spat, she looked absolutely livid. “Eet ees none of your bizness who I spend my time wizz. As for ze rest, you’ve got nozzing to offer zat would remotely interest me… and I can guarantee you zat I ‘ave a bigger dick zan your own pazzetic excuse for a man’ood, little boy..”

Evangeline spewed her drink all over and fell out of her seat, half laughing, half choking.

The entire Hall erupted in laughter while Ron turned and ran, Ginny hot on his heels.

Hermione really didn’t feel all that bad. She knew that Fleur had a sharp tongue but only used it when someone overstepped their bounds and really deserved it. And judging by what she had heard, Ron must have done a swan dive off the cliff and into a flaming pile of shit.

Harry looked over at her with wide eyes and sighed softly, looking wistfully at his plate of food. “I guess we should go deal with that, huh?”

Hermione really didn’t want to but she nodded and stood up to follow the black-haired boy out of the Hall, but not before she shot Fleur a shy, apologetic smile.

They found Ron sitting with Ginny in the Common Room. Ginny was rubbing his back and making comments to try to make her brother feel better, mostly at Fleur’s expense. 

Hermione bristled when she caught bits of what the girl was saying, “tramp,” “not worth his time” and “doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.” She wanted to yell at them both for being complete asshats, but knowing the Weasley temper, she figured it was definitely not the time. Unless she wanted to start the War several years early.

Ron looked up at Harry and Hermione as they entered and instantly turned on them. As expected, he started lashing out in an effort to make himself feel better. 

“What are you two smiling about? Come to make fun of me, too? At least I tried. Stupid bitch didn’t need to come at me like that. And for the record, my dick is plenty big enough. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Ginny looked between Harry and Hermione “He’s all yours.” She got up and went up the stairs toward her room.

Hermione fought back the urge to slap him outright. She knew that Ron could be an arse, but he was reaching an all new level of low. She was not going to allow him to talk about Fleur like that. And she let him know her thoughts on the matter. “You are such an arse, Ronald Weasley! Just because she turned you down doesn’t mean you have any right to say that about her.” She huffed as she dropped into a poofy armchair.

“Whatever, Hermione. At least I have the balls to ask someone out.” Ron looked as if a lightbulb clicked on in his brain. “Hey… you’re a girl…”

Hermione shook her head, realizing where this conversation was going but couldn’t refrain from shooting him a sarcastic remark “Well, that’s well spotted.” 

“Why don’t we go together then?”

“You have _got_ to be joking. I’ve been telling you for days that I already have a date.”

“Yeah, yeah… some mystery bloke… So who is it?”

“Ron… if Hermione says she has a date, maybe you should just let it go, mate…” Harry chimed in trying to smooth the situation before it escalated. Unfortunately Ron and Hermione both ignored him, continuing to glare at one another. Harry went back to sitting rigidly in his seat, waiting for the inevitable.

“Why is it so important to you?” Hermione’s voice was raising in both pitch and volume as she got increasingly annoyed.

“Well why are _you_ being so secretive?”

“Because some of us value privacy! You’ll find out at the Ball!”

“Pfft… I don’t believe you. I think you made this up so you have an excuse when you show up alone. I mean it’s one thing for a bloke to show up alone, but for a girl it’s just sad.” Ron shrugged “I mean, don’t come crying to me when no one else asked you.”

Hermione glared at the insufferable redhead “oh that’s rich, coming from the person who doesn’t actually have a date.”

Ron bristled, his already fragile masculinity cracking “I just asked you and you declined.”

“First, you asked me as a last resort, which for the record is really shitty to do, even for you. Second, I do not know how many times I have to tell you this to get it through that ridiculously thick skull of yours… I. HAVE. A. DATE!”

“Wow… no need to blow up there.” Ron looked at her with wide eyes and then turned to Harry, who was sitting quietly, unsure of what to do at this moment. “Must be a girl thing. You know how they get all emotional this time of the month.”

“EUGH!” Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. She jumped to her feet “I don’t know why I ever bother with you. You are such a colossal fuckwit! I can’t stand to be around you right now. I’m going to the library. Don’t bother talking to me again until you’re ready to apologize.”

“A-Apologize?!” Ron stammered, looking like Hermione had just slapped him “You’re joking, right? For what?” He looked to Harry for support, “She’s joking, right?”

Hermione was already out the portrait but she could still hear Ron trying to process what she had said “She can’t be serious, right?”

Hermione did not go to the library. She went up to the Astronomy Tower for a quiet place to get away and think. She was seething, steam was practically jetting out of her ears. Angry tears flowed from her eyes. She hated that Ron had gotten to her like this and the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. It was a compounding issue. 

“‘Ermione?” 

Hermione turned in the direction of the voice, quickly trying to rub her tears away. Fleur was standing at the doorway, looking rather concerned, unsure if she should come in or not. “May I join you or do you need some time alone?”

Hermione nodded “I’m sorry… I didn’t want for you to see me like this…”

“What’s wrong, mon ami?” Fleur cautiously approached Hermione, standing quietly as she gazed out over the school grounds.

“It’s… Ron was just being an arse.”

Fleur stiffened, her pale fingers gripped the ledge so tightly that her knuckles turned white in seconds “He made you feel like this? What did he say to you? I will tear him apart for hurting you!”

Hermione shook her head “No, it’s fine. I appreciate it but I don’t need you to fight my battles. He was just mad about what happened at dinner and decided to take it out on me a bit.”

Fleur softened immediately and pulled Hermione into a deep hug, her arms wrapped around the petite brunette, holding her impossibly close. She pulled her long blue cloak around the younger girl’s shoulders, realizing that Hermione wasn’t dressed appropriately for the cold.

Hermione melted into the embrace, subconsciously nuzzling against the blue silk dress. Her head came to rest on Fleur’s chest, right above her heart. If she weren’t so worked up, she probably would have been freaking out by the fact that she was so close to Fleur’s breast. Alas, that was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

She could hear the steady, rhythmic beating. It was strong, consistent. She focused on that as she stood quietly, taking deep breaths as she calmed down. Fleur’s intoxicating scent filled her nostrils and made her head feel light. She was glad that Fleur wasn’t pushing her to talk, just letting her be at peace for a moment. She felt Fleur’s chin come to rest on the top of her head and she sighed happily. She could hear her speaking, possibly singing, softly in French. She didn’t understand it but found it soothing nonetheless. Despite the previous events that evening, everything about this moment just felt right. 

“I am sorry, ‘Ermione. I should not have torn him down like that. But the things he said… I assure you, it was not unfounded.” Fleur finally spoke after several minutes once Hermione has calmed down.

“No, don’t apologize for his bad behavior. I don’t blame you, I’m sure whatever he said was ignorant and horrible, and frankly, I’m glad you put him in his place. He needs to learn that he can’t get away with being an arse without consequences. He speaks first and thinks never. I’m not excusing his behavior at all…” 

“Let’s not dwell on him. He is not worth our time.”

“That’s true… so, are you looking forward to the Ball?”

“Very much. I think it shall be a night to remember.”

Hermione smiled, her heart filled with warmth “Me, too. I don’t care about Ron but just wish that Harry could find a date. The girl he wanted to go with was already spoken for.”

“Harry does not have a date yet? I know someone if he is still looking.”

“Oh?”

“Evangeline. Do you think he would be interested in going with her?”

“I think that would be great. We could all hang out together after.”

“Oui, I think that would be lovely.”

Hermione looked up when the bells rang, warning that curfew was in 15 minutes. “Well, I guess I should get going. Thank you for everything. How did you find me, by the way?”

“I saw you leave dinner looking rather sad and wanted to check on you before I went back to the carriage. I ran into Harry and he told me you were here.”

Hermione nodded slowly. _Right, Harry probably saw her on the Map._ She was reluctant to move away from Fleur’s warmth but she managed to extract herself from the blonde, who seemed equally reluctant to let go. 

“May I accompany you back to your dorm?” Fleur’s eyes were full and hopeful, shifting slightly with uncertainty as she looked down at the brunette witch.

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

“No, we do not have your same curfew. You maybe in 7th year class but not in age.”

“That would be lovely then.”

They walked quietly back to Gryffindor Tower, their conversation light and superficial, but it seemed to be just what they needed. Hermione’s face burned hot when she felt Fleur’s hand brush against hers occasionally. She wanted to reach out and hold that hand. But she didn’t.

She turned to face Fleur when they got to the entrance portrait. “Right, this is me. Thank you for walking me back… well, I guess I’ll see you later?” 

“See you later, ‘Ermione.” Fleur smiled softly, taking Hermione’s hand in her own, pulling it up as she leaned down and planted a kiss along her knuckles, causing the Golden Girl to blush furiously. “Fais de beaux rêves…” 

“Sweet dreams.” Hermione smiled and whispered the password in the Fat Lady’s ear. The portrait swung open and she headed in, watching Fleur walk away down the hallway as the portrait closed behind her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur was practically floating through the next few days. She and Hermione were starting to form the foundations of a real friendship and she cherished her time with the bookworm. She was still trying to keep it completely platonic, but she couldn’t help but notice the increase in blatant flirting between them. Innocently touching fingers if they reached for something in Potions class. Catching each other staring from across the Great Hall. Witty comments and subtle innuendos. She couldn’t help it. This Hermione was nothing like the 15 year old she remembered from her past, she seemed so much older, more mature. She felt disappointed in herself, but she couldn’t deny that she had developed feelings. But she was firm in her decision that she would never act on them. 

She woke early Christmas morning. It was the day of the Yule Ball! But she had several things to take care of before then. The first of which came in the form of her sister, who was currently jumping on her bed to wake her up.

« Fleur! Fleurrrrrr! Wake up, it’s Christmas! » Gabrielle giggled as Fleur blindly reached up and pulled her down to the soft mattress, snuggling her close.

« Mmmm… just five more minutes, little monster. Let me sleep! »

« Non! It’s time for presents! » the young girl wriggled free and leapt off the bed.

Fleur slowly opened her eyes and rolled out of bed, grabbing her silk robe. There was simply no dissuading Gabrielle once the tiny menace set her mind to something.

« Fine. But first I need coffee. » 

On cue, a coffee tray appeared out of thin air on her desk. She hurried over to doctor her morning caffeine to her liking, a splash of milk and two sugars. She sat in a chair and sipped her drink, grinning as she watched her sister sitting on the floor next to a large stack of presents, already tearing into one. 

« Make a list of who sent you gifts so that you can write thank you notes. We must always be appreciative of the gifts we are given. »

Gabrielle pouted but nodded « Yes, sister. » In a great show of restraint, the young child set down the partially unwrapped gift and got a piece of parchment and quill from Fleur’s desk. She eagerly went back to opening her gifts, bringing a few over to Fleur when she came across them.

The sisters enjoyed a peaceful morning together before heading up to the Great Hall for a proper breakfast.

« Did you get anything for Brainy? »

« I did. »

« Ooooh, what is it? »

« I’m not telling you »

« What? Why?! »

« Because it is special and I want it to be a surprise. Besides, you’ll just tell her. You’re terrible at keeping secrets, you know? »

« That’s... » Gabrielle huffed indignantly. « Yeah, that’s actually fair. »

Fleur was actually impressed by the overnight transformation of the Great Hall. She hadn’t seen the Hall before the Yule Ball last time, taking her meals in the Carriage so she could get ready. 

There were a half-dozen pine trees, each at least 15 feet tall. Candles, tinsel, and ribbons covered the evergreen boughs. Ice columns cascaded down from the ceiling and several moving ice sculptures had been erected by the staff table. Snowflakes fluttered down between the floating candles. For lack of a better term, it looked magical. Like stepping into a winter wonderland.

Fleur and Gabrielle joined Hermione and Harry at the Gryffindor table. She was grateful that there was an absence of redheads in the vicinity. 

“Joyeux Noël” Fleur chirped happily and greeted Hermione with her customary double cheek kiss.

“Hiya Fleur, Gabrielle! Happy Christmas!” Harry grinned, pouring the youngest a mug of hot chocolate. He was wearing a knitted maroon sweater with a large gold H on the chest.

The group sat together and ate, chattering about anything and everything. Everyone was in exceptionally high spirits.

After they ate, Fleur pulled out a small bag from her cloak’s inner pocket, reaching in to grab several wrapped gifts.

“Wow, is that an Undetectable Extension Charm?” Hermione watched her with interest. It was an extremely tricky charm, especially for a 7th year. 

“Oui…” Fleur smirked and slid a long box across the table to Hermione “For you, mon ami.” She reached in again and grabbed a package that she gave to Harry.

“Fleur! You didn’t have to get me anything…” Hermione gasped when she took the long, narrow box. 

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Well, since we’re exchanging gifts.” Hermione smirked and grabbed two boxes from the seat next to her. 

Gabrielle wiggled in excitement when she saw a tag with her name on it and got to work. 

“Blimey, Fleur, this is great, thanks!” Harry beamed as he unwrapped his professional broom care kit. “Do you guys mind if I go put this to work?“

“Not at all, ‘Arry, eet ees for you to use as you see fit.”

“Can I come wizz you? I’ve always wanted to see a Firebolt up close!” Gabrielle looked up from the little music box that Hermione had given her.

“Sure, if it’s alright with your sister, of course.”

Gabrielle pulled out her classic puppy eyes and pouted up at the older Veela.

“Fine… But before you go, what do you ‘ave to say to ‘Ermione?”

“Merci, ‘Ermione! I love eet. Eet sounds so beautiful!” Gabrielle gave the brunette a hug and scampered after Harry.

Fleur watched the two leave the Great Hall before turning back to Hermione “He is too kind to her.”

Hermione chuckled “He’s an all around good guy.” She pulled out another box from a hidden pocket and handed it over to Fleur. “I’m glad they left, I wanted to give this one to you in private.”

“Oh? A secret, scandalous gift perhaps?” Fleur grinned and pulled out another box from her bag. “Well I happen to have something extra for you as well. But you have not opened your first gift yet.”

“Well, neither have you…”

“We can alternate. I would like to watch you open your gifts.”

Hermione nodded “Seems fair.” She pulled the silver wrapping paper off of the first box to reveal a sleek mahogany box. She carefully lifted the lid and gasped. Inside was a white velvet cushion with a new quill. Royal blue with a silver tip and an elaborate writing nib at the other end. She recognized the feather. “Wait… isn’t this the feather you gave me?”

“Oui, I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of transforming it into something more useful than a decoration. It is enchanted to replenish its ink. As endearing as it is to see your hands covered in ink, this quill will not bleed ink onto you.”

“I… it’s so beautiful… it’s a piece of you.” Hermione stammered, overwhelmed by Fleur’s thoughtfulness. “Thank you. How did you get the feather out of my room?”

“Gabrielle seems to have befriended a house elf that knows of you… Dibby I think?”

“Oh, Dobby!” Hermione wrote a few squiggles on the wrapping paper to test her new quill. True enough, ink flowed even without an inkwell. She set the quill carefully back in its box. “Your turn next. Open the big one first”

Fleur did exactly that, pulling off the red wrapping paper. “Is this… my own Underarmour?”

Hermione laughed “Thought you could use a set to keep you warm when you run.”

“I shall use it every day!” Fleur rubbed her hand on the stretchy black fabric, holding it up against her chest “It looks very official. I love it, I can’t wait to try it on later. Thank you. Your turn now!” She set the box of clothing aside and leaned forward. She rested her elbows on the table, her hands resting on her fists, eager to watch Hermione open the next one.

Hermione picked up the long black velvet box and slid off the red satin ribbon. Inside was a delicate silver chain with three golden rings on it. “Oh wow, it’s beautiful, Fleur...” she exclaimed.

“The rings are special. Each one has been enchanted.”

“Enchanted how?” 

“Each one represents a golden truth. You may ask me any question and I shall answer it completely truthfully. I want you to know me more. But there are some things I cannot share, but I can answer if you were to ask me.”

“That’s both generous and cruel. You know I can’t ask just _three_ questions!” Hermione laughed softly as she leaned her neck forward so Fleur could put the necklace on her. She shivered involuntarily when she felt Fleur’s fingers on her neck.

“Oui, so you had better make them damn good questions then. Take your time, there is no expiration date on them.”

“Oh, I shall…” Hermione beamed and touched the gold rings resting against her collarbone. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely wonderful.” Fleur grinned and reached for the last gift. It was a small box, wrapped in blue paper with a silver bow, since Fleur was an honorary Ravenclaw. She carefully unwrapped the gift and pulled off the lid of the small box. Inside there were two royal blue marbles sitting on a velvet pillow. 

“You gave me… blue balls?”

Hermione snorted “First, never say that…”

“Does it mean something inappropriate?”

Hermione blushed, not wanting to have to explain the phrase “Uh… kind of… but that’s definitely not what they represent.”

Fleur furrowed her brow and picked on up, she recognized it as one of the marbles from the day she and Hermione dueled. “A reminder of the day we agreed not to kill one another?”

Hermione laughed “Well, I hadn’t thought about it that way, but now that you mention it…”

“Oh stop your teasing, you insufferable witch.” Fleur chided teasingly.

“Well, they are from that day. They just reminded me of you for some reason. Then I saw your Veela form and they seemed perfect. But I enchanted them. If you want to find me, all you have to do is activate the charm and the marbles will be drawn to one another. There’s another charm that allows you to speak into your marble and I will hear it. I got the idea from a Muggle phone. When you activate the charm, my marble will heat up, alerting me that you wish to speak to me. They go both ways so I can call for you as well..”

Fleur’s eyes widened and she looked at the marbles with more reverence rather than confusion. “That is very impressive magic, Mademoiselle ‘Ermione.” She picked up one of the marbles and handed it over to the Gryffindor. “You are truly amazing, ma belle.”

“So are you…” Hermione blushed. 

They sat together for a little longer. Hermione taught her the charms and they spent time testing them out. Of course they worked flawlessly, Fleur thought. Hermione really was the brightest witch of her age.

Eventually they went their separate ways to start getting ready for the evening’s festivities.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guess what? I still can't stand Ron and it shows in this chapter.  
> TW: really homophobic comments/words at the end.

« Well, someone is chipper today. »

Evangeline grinned as she placed another pin in the blonde’s thick locks. The brunette already had her hair completely wrapped up in tight curlers and was waiting for the curl to set. Like Fleur, she was not a full-Veela. Her mother had married a Muggle man, so she grew up straddling the magical, Veela, and Muggle worlds. She preferred to do some things the Muggle way. Plus she rarely got the opportunity to play with Fleur’s near waist-length silvery blonde hair. A Veela, even a part-Veela, was very particular about who she allowed to touch her hair. It showed a significant trust between them, allowing oneself to be vulnerable to another.

« Why wouldn’t I be? Hermione loved her gifts. And later I'm going to have the most beautiful date to the Ball! » Fleur beamed up at her friend, looking at her through the reflection in the mirror. « I wonder what she will ask me. »

« How many truths did you give her? »

« Three. She joked that she had far more than three but I told her to choose well. »

« She is an inquisitive little thing. Well, she’s smart, I’m sure she will think of something good. » Evangeline hesitated. « By the way, she asked me some things about the Veela, after the First Task… about why I burned your feathers and your transition back. I hope you do not mind. I forgot to tell you. »

« No, that’s fine. I would have answered those questions, too. As long as you did not divulge any Clan secrets. I trust that Hermione understands the significance of our secrecy and she will protect our information. She is a believer in knowledge and knows that it is a powerful tool and an even more powerful weapon in the wrong hands. »

« Do you think she is your one? I mean, I know she’s young but I can’t help but notice the way you are around her. » Evangeline worried at her lip, wondering if she might have gone too far. 

Fleur paused a moment then looked away quickly so her friend didn’t see her eyes. Evangeline would know that she was lying. She couldn’t tell Evangeline the truth, even though they were in the same Clan. If she said that she knew that Hermione was her mate, it would raise more questions. « I won’t deny that I feel a connection with her, but if that is a mating bond or just deep friendship is yet to be seen. You know as well as I that I won’t be certain until she is of age. She is too young to know for sure. »

« Yeah, but she really doesn’t seem that young to me. I mean, when she talks and even the way she holds herself... She just, I don’t know, seems older somehow? That sounds crazy. Forget I said anything. »

Fleur shrugged « Perhaps. But until then, I am content being her friend. »

« Just friend? » Evangeline smirked but then quickly backpedaled when she saw Fleur’s glare. « Alright, alright, I won't tease… So, tell me how you want your hair. »

The two French women finished getting ready, giggling and gossiping the entire time. Fleur had forgotten how nice it felt to have a close girl friend again and let herself get caught up in the moment. She was enjoying feeling young again and not like she was carrying the future of the world on her shoulders. 

After her graduation, she moved to London and started working at Gringotts as a curse-breaker. It was a cover so she could join the Order of the Phoenix without raising suspicions about her presence and gave her access to intel the Order needed. She had been so focused on working with the resistance to let herself make friends. 

One of her co-workers, Bill Weasley, had shown interest in her. He had even asked her out a few times, but she knew he wasn’t her one. Thanks to the fact that her Veela was an alpha, the next to lead the Clan, she had developed an anatomical feature more commonly associated with males when she was a teenager. This let her know that her mate was a female. So she hadn’t bothered pursuing a relationship with the eldest Weasley. She didn’t want to lead him on when she knew full well that she couldn’t give him her whole heart.

At 6:15, they were finally ready for the evening. Fleur was wearing a simple yet elegant silver evening gown. The bodice was a textured lace with a moderately plunging neckline and an open back. The floor length silk skirt hung off her body perfectly to accentuate her curves and shimmered like flowing water when she moved. She wore elbow-length silver gloves. Hermione had told her that she would be wearing dark blue, so she accessorized with a diamond necklace with a large sapphire pendant. She also wore a jeweled sapphire comb in her hair, tucked into her elaborate updo masterpiece that Evangeline created. Her make-up was light and natural but was enough to accentuate her soft features. 

Evangeline was wearing a more modest dress, a floor length red crushed velvet with long sleeves that hugged her body like a glove. Her hair was also up in an elaborate woven knot. She had sent Harry a red rose boutonniere to tie their looks together, since he already had his dress robes and didn’t have time to alter them before the Ball.

Gabrielle snapped several pictures of the older girls and sent them on their way. 

The youngest Veela was going to the ‘Junior Ball’ for all of the younger Hogwarts students to keep them out of trouble so the older students could enjoy their evening. Fleur felt bad for the professors in charge of chaperoning that party. 

Fleur walked arm in arm with Evangeline up to the castle, using her friend as an anchor to prevent her from running up the hill to the castle. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, eager to see her mate. 

The usually open courtyard had been cleared of all snow and transfigured into a sort of hedge maze made out of roses, a warming spell cast over the area. The rose petals were covered in a delicate icy frost but they showed no sign of wilting. Two-seat benches were placed along the outer edge (and presumably within). Fairy lights hung between the living walls. It was a very romantic and private setting. 

The Entrance Hall had also undergone changes in the few hours since she had last been here with Hermione. The space had been decorated in the same style as the Great Hall. Large icy columns, heavily decorated trees, floating candles and silver orbs, drapes of garlands. 

It was a chaotic sea of colors and textures as students tried to find their dates in the crowd or mingled with their friends. Professors were ushering in students into the Great Hall for the Champion Procession. 

Fleur stayed close to Evangeline as she looked around the area, searching for Hermione. 

“Hiya, Fleur! Hi Evangeline!” Harry shouted over the crowd, waving his hand to get their attention. He was dressed in fine black dress robes with a white collared shirt, the red rose accessory was pinned to his front pocket. He had even managed to tame his hair down, though it was still rather messy. “You two look lovely this evening.”

“Merci, ‘Arry.” Fleur greeted him and released her hold on her friend’s arm so Evangeline could enjoy her date. 

Harry offered the brunette his arm in a very gentlemanly fashion, earning him a smile and kiss on the cheek.

“‘Ave you seen ‘Ermione yet?” Fleur fiddled nervously with her gloves.

“No, she should be here soon, she’s never late.” He reassured her. “Don’t worry, Fleur, she won’t leave you waiting.”

Fleur nodded, slightly unconvinced. She felt Evangeline poke her shoulder and gesture up the stairs.

“I zink I ‘ave found ‘er.”

Fleur turned to look and felt her heart stop as she took in the sight approaching her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was loath to leave Fleur that afternoon after having such a wonderful start to the day but she really did need to get ready. She was so pleased that Fleur liked her gifts and she was extremely touched by Fleur’s gifts. She looked in the mirror for a while, admiring her new necklace. _Three questions…_ She felt like Aladdin receiving his magical lamp. She knew that it was Fleur’s way of offering her a loophole into Veela secrecy, so didn’t want to waste the questions with something insignificant. 

She flitted around her room, dressed only in her robe, waiting for her hair product to set into her brown curls. She didn’t know how she got so lucky, but Parvati and Lavender had decided to get ready in Padma’s room in Ravenclaw Tower, so she had the space to herself. Crookshanks was watching her with a confused expression, probably wondering why she looked so happy.

While she waited for her hair, she got her dress out of the box and hung it up using her bedpost so she could steam out any wrinkles. It was perfect, exactly how she had described it to Madame Malkins. It was a full length navy blue silk gown with a tulle outer layer and shallow V-neck. The bodice hugged her curves tight, supported by thin straps. Sequined lace appliques gave extra texture to the top part of the dress and faded down the floor. The skirt flared out past the waistline and the appliques transitioned from blue into silver, making the bottom half look like stars in the night sky.

She tested her hair again. It seemed like the curls were finally tamed into something she could work with and she quickly got to work, using her magic to create an elegant updo, showing off the open back of her dress. Once her hair was done, she slipped into her dress and checked her light makeup. 

She wore no jewelry other than the necklace Fleur had given her that morning.

With a final look in the mirror, she felt satisfied with her look and headed down to the Great Hall to meet Fleur.

By the time she made it to the staircase leading to the entrance hall, her stomach was full of butterflies. _This was it._ She took a deep breath and stepped out from around the corner and started carefully descending the stairs, holding onto the railing. She did not trust herself in heels, even though they were only a modest kitten heel.

It felt like she had stepped onto a Muggle movie set, everything seemed to move in slow motion. She saw Fleur standing with Evangeline and Harry, laughing and talking. And when the blonde turned her head to look in her direction, her heart threatened to leap right out of her chest. 

When their eyes met it felt like the world had stopped, chocolate brown gazed into deep sapphire pools. They stared at each other for a few moments, both drinking in the view of the other. Fleur was looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world, her smile was so bright that it would make the sun jealous. It made her feel special, wanted, in a way she had never felt before. All doubts she had went floating right out of the metaphorical window. This was their night.

She felt like she was in a trance as she descended the remaining stairs and came to a stop in front of the Veela, who looked like a Roman goddess. She felt a sudden wave of shyness overtake her as she gazed up at her beautiful date. “Hi, Fleur…” 

“Bon soir, ‘Ermione. You look positively enchanting, ma belle.” Fleur grinned broadly as she took her hand and kissed her knuckles softly.

Hermione blushed bright “I was about to say the same to you…”

“You two love birds are so gross.” Evangeline grinned, playfully socking Fleur in the shoulder.

“You clean up nice, Harry.” Hermione smirked at her friend, who playfully pushed her shoulder to go along with his “so do you” response. The four fell into light chatter, everyone smiling ear to ear.

“Oh, good, Miss Granger! You’re here!” McGonagall came bustling over, giving her an approving smile. She raised her voice so all of the eight people remaining in the entrance hall could hear her. “Champions, please gather here and line up for the opening procession…”

Fleur held her arm out, elbow bent at a 90-degree angle and Hermione set hers in position so that her forearm was on top of Fleur’s, her palm resting on the top of Fleur’s hand. “How chivalrous.” She quipped and grinned at the older witch.

“What can I say? I’m French.” Fleur grinned back as they took their place at the front of the line, followed by Harry and Evangeline, then Cedric and Cho and finally Viktor and a Ravenclaw girl that Hermione didn’t remember.

Hermione gave Fleur one last glance for reassurance before the huge double doors swung open. She felt like she was floating as she walked, her feet didn’t seem to touch the ground. She heard whispers and even some shocked gasps, but she held her head high, drawing strength from Fleur, whose confidence was infectious. Fleur was proud to be with her and made her feel like she could take on the world, so she held her head high and walked. Fleur led the way to the Champion’s table and held her chair out for her before taking her own seat.

Once the four Champions and their dates were seated, the rest of the students made their way to the hundreds of round tables that had replaced the four House tables.

Dinner itself was rather quiet. Hermione ordered pork chops, while Fleur had picked a traditional French dish from the menu. Hermione offered a few bites of her plate in exchange for a taste of Fleur’s meal, which turned out to be a braised chicken. Coq au vin, the Frenchwoman explained.

The table fell into casual conversation as they all ate. Hermione was pleasantly surprised that no one else at the table seemed bothered by the fact that two witches came together. She had been a little concerned to see how Viktor took it, though this time around he didn’t seem to have the same interest in her that he had before. He smiled at them pleasantly and offered his congratulations, complimenting them on their dresses. Cho made a comment that Hermione’s Gryffindor courage was showing and that not many would be comfortable being so open, then offered her an encouraging smile.

“Zis ees very good, but I would love to cook eet for you my way. Per’aps you could visit me een France one day?” Fleur offered as she pushed her empty bowl away and dabbed her lips with her napkin.

“I… errr. I’d like that. I didn’t know you cooked.” Hermione blushed at the thought of seeing Fleur’s home.

“But of course. I am French!” Fleur laughed merrily. 

“So you’ve mentioned. Repeatedly.” Hermione scoffed and nudged the blonde with her shoulder.

When dinner came to a close, Dumbledore stood and clapped his hands once. The dirty dishes all vanished along with most of the round tables. The only tables that remained were the ones on the very edges of the room, which would be there for people to sit at if they needed a break from dancing later. Several long tables appeared at the back of the room, covered in sweets and refreshments. Another table held beverages, several large bowls of punch and even butterbeer and wine for the older students. Hermione remembered that by the end of the night all drinks would be alcoholic, courtesy of the Weasley Twins, who spiked the punch with fire whisky.

“May I ‘ave zis dance, Mademoiselle Granger?” Fleur bowed at the waist and offered her hand.

Hermione was beside herself, she felt every bit like a princess, as ridiculous as that sounded. She grinned and accepted Fleur’s hand “It would be an honor, Mademoiselle Delacour.”

The four Champions all took up their places on the dance floor for the opening dance and started to move in time with the music that played. Fleur led them in a slow waltz with skill and confidence. Hermione was glad that she and Harry had practiced the steps together, but she found that it was rather easy to follow Fleur’s lead. Just like everything else, the blonde's movements were graceful and fluid as she spun the brunette around then dipped her low at the end of the song.

After a few minutes, some of the professors joined them on the dance floor, Dumbledore and McGonagall sweeping along in surprisingly elegant movements. Some brave student pairs also took the plunge and before long, the floor was full of dancing.

After a few traditional songs, the staff table was removed and the Weird Sisters took the stage to provide live music. Hermione was having a grand time dancing with Fleur, Evangeline and Harry. For once in her life, she wasn’t worried about anything other than having fun with friends. The quartet goofed off, jumping about and waving their arms around to the eclectic beat of the music. After a while they headed off the dance floor to rest and get some refreshments. Hermione sat with Harry while the Beauxbatons women went to get drinks. They were older and could get the good stuff anyway.

“I never thought I would be having so much fun!” Hermione puffed, out of breath. 

Harry nodded, sweeping his dark bangs out of his face “I know right? Thanks for helping set me up with Evangeline. She’s really funny and smart.”

“Ooooh, are you in love, Harry James Potter?”

“Shove off, it’s not like that.”

“I’m just teasing you. You’re my brother and therefore it’s my duty to give you shit.” Hermione laughed and socked him in the shoulder.

Their playful moment was interrupted by a furious redhead that came stomping over in a huff. Ron stood there, arms across his chest, his face contorted in anger

“Havin' fun are we? Well, carry on with your jokes. Don't let me interrupt you" He glowered, continuing when he saw them look up at him "Yeah, I’m still here… Guess you two were too busy with those sluts to realize you were down a friend, huh? Glad to know I’m so easily replaced…”

“How dare you say that about them!?” Hermione jumped to her feet, staring him down.

“Yeah, what’s your problem, Ron?” Harry followed suit.

“Problem? Oh, there’s no problem, not according to you two at least…” Ron glared, making a point to look only at Harry, ignoring Hermione’s presence. 

“Look if you’ve got an issue, just spit it out.” Harry challenged.

“Fine… since apparently you can’t see the obvious… Have you forgotten something? They’re _Veela!_ None of this is real! I can’t believe you would be so stupid to believe otherwise.” Ron finally looked at Hermione, pointing an accusatory finger at her “And you… I thought you were smarter than this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione shot back.

“She’s using you to figure out that egg! She’s gonna take what she wants from you and kick you to the curb. It’s what they do! And what’s worse is that you brought Harry into this mess!” Ron was visibly shaking now, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. 

“How dare you! How dare you speak about Fleur like that. Suggesting she have and dishonorable intentions. We’ve never discussed the tournament! Just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you have to be a complete arse about it!” Hermione seethed.

“Jealous? You think I’m jealous? Of what? You? Clearly Fleur only agreed because she felt bad for you. I mean you don’t actually think that Fleur would want to go with you when there were plenty of good blokes to go around. It's just a sympathy date because you couldn't get a real date for yourself.” Ron was just inches from Hermione’s face by now.

“Ron. You should stop this now.” Harry squared up and put his hand on Ron’s chest, pushing him back a few paces.

“Whatever, you both are fraternizing with the enemy and now everyone knows it!” Ron glared between the two.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite Ronald Weasley. Who was it that was tripping over themselves trying to get her attention earlier this year? You!” Hermione growled.

“It was different. I’m a bloke. I was under her Veela spells. I couldn’t help it.” Ron shrugged “You on the other hand have no excuse! How could you betray me like this? I thought we were friends! I can’t believe you’d choose some bird over me! I guess I should actually be thanking you, though.”

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow “Oh, how so?”

“Well, you saved me from wasting my time with you. At least now I know you’re just a fucking dyke and so is she. I wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole.”

Unbidden tears welled up in the corners of Hermione’s eyes. That stung worse than Malfoy calling her a Mudblood and cut deeper than Bellatrix's cursed dagger. “I never took you for such an ignorant small minded prat! Why can’t you just accept that we’re happy?”

“Because it’s disgusting! Witches with witches! It’s sick and perverted. It makes me sick to think about. I can't even look at you right now!”

Hermione turned and ran. She couldn’t deal with this and she was certain she would do something that she would regret later if she stayed. She had survived a year on the run and hours of endless torment by Bellatrix, but this cut her deeper than anything before. She entered the rose garden and found a secluded alcove before bursting into tears.

Usually I don't do this, but I really liked the inspiration for their Yule Ball looks, so here are the links because I don't think my descriptions quite did them justice.

[Fleur's Dress](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.yesbabyonline.com%2Fg%2Felegant-halter-a-line-appliques-chiffon-long-bridesmaid-dresses-simple-wedding-guest-dresses-115606.html&psig=AOvVaw3r8bMcd0qXDIzD4R2OnX0A&ust=1590094189474000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCIiRqsqow-kCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAK)

[Hermione's Dress](https://www.google.com/aclk?sa=L&ai=DChcSEwi3xp3yqcPpAhUwH60GHRjMAjMYABA2GgJwdg&sig=AOD64_2shM3S5i2M90Uyhou-dH2m08wvdw&ctype=5&q=&ved=0ahUKEwjDjpfyqcPpAhWZJjQIHcFnDxgQwjwIiAI&adurl=)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yule Ball fiasco TBC next chapter... I don't want to do too many POV shifts within chapters.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,  
> Thanks for the comments so far! I really appreciate the suggestions and take everything under serious advisement. I have high level plot points/milestones I outline but otherwise everything you’ve read so far is pretty much freeform. Also I post as I go (also means no beta) so sometimes the characters go on wandering paths, details don’t quite align, or they say something a little too OOC.  
> I want to make sure the story is believable as well as enjoyable within this verse/AU and do the story justice for these two amazing women. If you see any glaring issues or have ideas for how I can improve, please let me know. I really value feedback and constructive criticism and am more than happy to adjust or address later :-)

Fleur and Evangeline were making their way back to the table where they had left Harry and Hermione earlier. It had taken longer to get drinks than they expected, but they returned victorious, each carrying a glass of wine and a butterbeer. 

Fleur’s smile immediately dropped when she got back to the table to find Harry shouting at Ron and no Hermione. “What ees going on ‘ere? Where ees ‘Ermione?” 

Harry turned and opened his mouth to speak but Ron cut him off.

“This is none of your concern…” Ron glared at her, his face turning purple but not because of the thrall. 

She set down the goblets on the table and turned to face Ron “Did you say somezzing to ‘er?”

“Maybe… what’s it to you?” Ron puffed himself up, trying to act tough and nonchalant, though Fleur saw his knees starting to shake under her heated stare.

“You said some downright horrible things to Hermione! If I hadn’t heard it for myself I don’t think I would believe it!” Harry spat angrily. “I thought you were her friend! Friends don’t treat friends like that! How can you just turn your back on her like that? She’s saved your arse, several times. If not for her, you’d have been plant food three years ago!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it… You’re just trying to look tough in front of your new girlfriend so you might get lucky tonight…” Ron rolled his eyes at the black-haired boy, brushing off what Harry had said.

Evangeline stepped in and put her arm around Harry and whispered in his ear that this was something Fleur needed to deal with and not to get involved further. The Boy Who Lived huffed but stood down, albeit reluctantly.

“What. Did. You. Say. To ‘Er?” Fleur punctuated each word to get her point across, her eyes starting to flash a dangerous red.

“I told her what I thought of her. And you for that matter!”

“Please… Be more specific.”

Ron’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, as if he was glad to have the opportunity to speak his mind, not realizing the hot water he was in. “I think that you messed with her mind somehow with your Veela ways! You did something and got her all confused, turned her into a dyke like you! We were meant to be, me and her. She would have chosen me, I know it! She was supposed to be mine. Then you came along and ruined everything!”

“How dare you?!” Fleur screeched angrily “You talk about ‘Ermione as eef she ees somezzing to own! She belongs to no one but ‘erself! And you are a fool for zinking ozzerwise. You do not deserve ‘er eef zat ees ‘ow you would treat ‘er. ‘Ermione ees a bright, independent and talented witch who can make ‘er own free choices! I am ‘onored and privileged zat she sees me worzzy of ‘er friendship and I would never take zat for granted.”

“Whatever…” Ron scoffed “Once you’re gone she’ll forget about you and come back to me. You’re just a phase. Mark my words.”

“Non, Monsieur Weasley. You mark _my_ words. I do not know why she tolerates your bullsheet or what she sees in you… but some’ow she zinks of you as a friend, so I will give you a warning zis time. Eef I see ‘er shed one more tear because of somezzing you said to ‘er... I will not be as gentle next time.“

“Is that a threat?” Ron straightened up, making himself as tall as possible, and folded his arms across his chest, glaring defiantly.

Fleur had finally had enough of his false bravado. In one swift movement she reached forward and grabbed Ron by the frilly white collar of his ancient dress robes. In a surprising display of strength, she lifted him up off the ground until his toes barely touched. 

“Non, zat was not a zreat. You will know if I ever decided to zreaten you. You are not worzz my time or energy.” She threw him backwards away as she released her hold on his collar, not caring that he tripped over his ill-fitting robes and landed on his ass. She glared down at him as if he was the most disgusting thing on earth. And right now he was pretty close in her opinion.

She spun on her heel and turned to Harry and Evangeline. “I must find ‘Ermione. ‘Arry, did you see where she went?”

Harry was staring, wide eyed and open mouthed “She ran outside I think. I didn’t really get a chance to see.”

“Zank you. You will tell me eef ze idiot puts one toe out of line, yes?”

“Oh, believe me, you’ll have to get in line after me.” Harry grinned, glad that Hermione had someone good in her corner for once. “Don’t worry, Fleur, we both care about her. I won’t let anything happen to her when you’re not around.”

Fleur smiled at him, satisfied with his answer, and spun on her heel and strode off.

Ron stumbled up to his feet and pointed a finger at Fleur’s back “Did you see that? Bloody creature just threatened me!” He looked around at the group of students now curiously watching the altercation unfold, trying to gain some support. Feeling emboldened by the audience, he shouted after the seething blonde “What are they thinking, allowing something like that to wander around in school?! She’s dangerous! She should be locked up in…” 

He didn’t get to finish what he was going to say because Viktor Krum decked him square in the jaw, sending him flying again. 

“That is enough out of your vretched mouth. She is a rightful Champion and a good person who deserves respect, not this!” Viktor growled and gestured in a sweeping motion at Ron. “If anything it is you who should be shunned for your ignorance. Save the rest of us from having to listen to your idiocy!” 

Ron stumbled to his feet, clutching his mouth and staring wide-eyed at his Quidditch idol. “But… how can you side with her? She’s your competition in more ways than one! She’s a dy…” 

“Say one more negative comment about Fleur or Hermy-oh-ninny and I vill hit you again.” Viktor interrupted, glaring at the redhead. 

Ron looked around, finally noticing that the looks he had been getting were mostly disapproving rather than supportive and he turned and ran away with his tail tucked between his legs.

Fleur hurried outside, not sure where Hermione might have gone. The school grounds were huge and there were lots of places the brunette might have gone to hide. She thought about using her marble but she didn’t want to waste time going back to the carriage and she didn’t know if Hermione was carrying hers. Instead she turned her thoughts inward to her Veela.

_« Our mate needs us. Find her, please. »_

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was pacing in her secluded part of the rose maze. She had gotten over her initial shock and hurt from Ron’s words and now she was more annoyed at herself for letting him get to her like that. It wasn’t like she _hadn’t_ been expecting Ron to make some sort of scene, but his words were felt more hurtful this time around. Just because she had survived a war didn’t make her impervious to having her feelings hurt. Battle readiness and having an arsenal of spells didn’t make it any easier to hear someone personally attack her like that for being who she was. Especially someone she trusted.

She wondered why she had tolerated Ron’s bullshit as long as she had. Probably because she knew how it would affect Harry and she didn’t want to come between him and his best friend. Though she thought that the sooner Harry realized that Ron wasn’t a healthy influence in his life the better off he would be in the long run. The redhead really contributed little else other than negativity in the future, both in school and during their year searching for Horcruxes. Honestly he spent more time hindering their progress more than helping it, complaining or distracting Harry from the task at hand. Regardless of what Harry did, she had a completely valid excuse to cut Ron out of her life. At least until he came around, if he ever did.

“Good riddance…” she huffed and took a deep breath to calm herself down. She felt guilty for running off like she had, Fleur was probably wondering where she had gone. 

She was making her way back through the maze when she found Fleur picking her way through the hedges toward her. She found it a little ironic, given the Third Task setting had been a hedge maze.

“Hey, Fleur… sorry I ran off like that. I just needed to cool down a bit.”

“It is no issue, ‘Ermione. I apologize for not coming to find you right away. Monsieur Weasley and I had a little chat first. He shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Fleur.” Hermione sighed. She appreciated that Fleur was trying to protect her, but she really didn’t need it, she could handle herself. “What did you say to him?”

“I merely said that I was watching and if he said anything else to anger or sadden you, he has me to answer to.”

Hermione chuckled “Well, I hate to disappoint you, Miss Delacour, but you’ll need to get in line after me.”

“After you and Harry, apparently.” Fleur grinned “You Gryffindors…”

"Yeah... us Gryffindors." Hermione worried at her lip a moment before speaking again “Hey, I have a question for you.”

“Oh? Using your Christmas gift already?” Fleur quirked an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“No, not one of those questions, just something I noticed. You don’t call me Hermione when it’s clear that you can.”

“Well… I noticed that you seem to like the way I was saying it. Would you prefer for me to call you Hermione?”

“Eww, no, the other way was much better!” Hermione laughed. It felt strange how such a simple adjustment changed everything. Hearing Fleur say ‘Hermione’ like that didn’t give her fluttering butterflies in her stomach.

“Good, then I shall continue to say ‘Ermione.” Fleur smiled softly. “Perhaps we could finish our dance here, since we were so rudely interrupted before?”

“I would like that.” Hermione nodded.

“Bon, one moment.” Fleur took her wand out of its hiding place in her silk glove and waved it around. “Just some wards to make sure we are not interrupted. I saw a number of amorous pairs on my way in here and I do not feel like sharing my time with you.” Once the spells were in place, she put her wand back and held her hand out to Hermione.

Hermione grinned and accepted Fleur’s hand, placing her other hand on Fleur’s shoulder, leaning her head against the other.

Without music, Fleur hummed a song and slowly turned them around. It wasn’t a particular dance style, they just stood close and swayed together in small circles.

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. Hermione didn’t care. Everything felt perfect, like they were tucked away in their own little world. The smell of roses and twinkling of fairy lights above. Listening to Fleur’s soft voice and the steady pounding of her heart. Hermione felt her heart swell.

They stayed together a few moments once the ‘song’ ended, both witches seemed content to just hold one another close. Then the bells chimed, a warning that the Ball was drawing to a close.

Fleur pulled back first, tilting her head back so she could look down at Hermione. “Thank you for such a lovely evening. Aside from the brief interruption, I must say this was a wonderful day. I should get you back before Monsieur Potter has my head for keeping you out late.”

Hermione reluctantly pulled away as well, lifting her chin to meet Fleur’s gaze. She stared deep into those icy blue pools, noting the way Fleur was looking at her. It felt different, more intense and meaningful, like something had changed. In that moment she was feeling as if she was simultaneously drowning and floating in their depths. Her eyes flicked down to Fleur’s soft pink lips, wondering what they might feel like against her own. The Frenchwoman had kissed her cheeks, but it wasn’t the same. 

Her breath hitched when she saw Fleur’s pupils dilate. Her tongue darted out in response, wetting her lips. _Oh God, I’m about to kiss Fleur Delacour!_ She thought. She slowly leaned in, her eyes slipping closed. She was not expecting to feel a soft finger against her lips. 

“‘Ermione… wait.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed open and she was overcome by a wave of embarrassment. She had misread the signs. _Fleur didn’t want to kiss her._

“I-I’m sorry…” she stammered, trying not to react to the sting of rejection, getting ready to make a hasty retreat. 

“Wait, please listen to me. Let me explain.”

Hermione blinked and looked up at the night sky, trying to prevent tears building at the corners of her eyes. _God, rejection sucked._

“I did not realize you felt this strongly for me. But this is difficult for someone like me, it is not just a kiss for me. It means something more. For you. For me.”

Hermione listened, feeling confused and relieved. Another piece of the Fleur puzzle fell into place. “Is it a Veela thing?”

Fleur just nodded solemnly.

“What does it mean?”

“It would create a very powerful bond between us, one that I don’t think either of us is ready for. You are young, you have so much life to experience. I am very nearly an adult and you are still in school. It would be inappropriate on so many levels.” 

Hermione wanted to scream. She wanted to tell Fleur the truth but she couldn’t reveal herself. Instead she bit her tongue until she tasted blood and let Fleur continue. 

“I do not mean to disappoint you… But now that I know your feelings have grown into something more, I cannot allow this to continue toward anything romantic. I will not take away your choice and future. Maybe if you still feel the same about me in three years, we will find our way back to one another.”

Hermione grit her teeth. It hurt but she appreciated Fleur’s honesty and bluntness. She wanted to be mad and yell at Fleur for not telling her sooner. At the same time she knew that Fleur wasn’t a mind reader. They had never discussed a relationship or anything beyond friends. This was actually the first time she had made it known that she wanted anything more than just friendship. Aside from a few little flirty comments and going to the Ball together, nothing about their activities implied anything beyond friendship. In fact, most of the things they did she could see herself doing with Ginny, too… running around the Lake, passing notes, bantering and joking, reading and doing homework. She had put more meaning into it and clearly Fleur did not reciprocate.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she had to admit that she understood Fleur’s logic. In her mind, Fleur probably thought she was doing the honorable thing by not allowing the relationship to grow further. 

“I value your friendship more than I can explain. I’d like to remain friends but I understand if you need to be away from me.”

“Yeah… maybe it’s for the best we cut our losses then. Thank you for being honest with me” Hermione sighed and reached up to remove her necklace but was stopped by cool silk on her.

“It was a gift. Please keep it. You never know when you might have a question you need answered.”

“Thank you…” Hermione looked away “I think it might be best if we stayed apart for a while. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“I understand. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. And I meant what I said, I'll always be there for you if you need me, if you ever need my help or support. That hasn't changed”

Hermione smiled sadly and left the maze without looking back. _Damn you for being so fucking noble, Fleur Delacour!_


	16. Chapter 16

« Ooft! » Fleur groaned when a body landed on top of her. She was wrapped up in her blankets, refusing to get out of bed. « What are you doing, Evangeline? And how did you get past my blood wards? »

« Gabrielle let me in. I might have bribed her with cookies… »

« That little traitor. I’m going to have to rethink my protection spells. »

« So, how was it? I didn't see you or Mademoiselle Granger after that tomato with hair made a scene. Where did you sneak off to? Did you steal her first kiss? Hmmm? Come on, woman give me details! »

« No… we… broke up. Well, I can’t really say broke up, we weren’t dating or anything. » Fleur didn’t care that she probably looked pathetic, wrapped up in her blanket like a mopey Veela burrito. Her heart was aching and her Veela was screaming at her for being an idiot and denying her mate. But she knew in her heart it was the right move. _Right girl, wrong time._

She would wait however long it took for the right time. Now that she knew Hermione was her one, she would forsake all others. She didn’t exactly have a choice now anyway. Her Veela wouldn’t allow her to love anyone else now. But until then, she would continue to deny her instincts and let Hermione live her life and make her own choices. And if things were meant to be, they would find each other. Be that friends or lovers was yet to be seen.

She was determined to do whatever it took to ensure that she and her mate had a chance for some sort of future together. And hopefully saving the world in the process. But that was a problem for tomorrow. For now she was going to allow herself a day to wallow in self pity. Heartache hurt at any age.

« Excuse me… What?! »

« I came here to compete. I can’t let myself get distracted. » Fleur offered lamely.

« Yeah, but I mean, that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun along the way, you know? You don’t have to make yourself miserable. »

« Please, Eva… just don’t. I can’t handle this right now… »

Evangeline nodded and curled up on the bed next to her heartbroken alpha, taking her head and cradling it in her lap. She hummed a few traditional Veela lullabies quietly, rubbing her friend’s back and trying to soothe her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With the start of the new year, Hermione buckled down and started to try to formulate a plan to deal with Voldemort. She had allowed herself to get distracted by her unrequited crush on Fleur and her curiosity about the Time Turner, which in the grand scheme of things was of little consequence. But she refused to dwell or berate herself over it.

So she compartmentalized everything that didn’t immediately affect her or was not related to her mission and tucked it away in the depths of her mind. Including Fleur. Mostly Fleur, honestly… She had put her quill and necklace in the mahogany quill box and tucked it under her bed, hidden behind stacks of old books. She did continue to carry the marble, quietly hoping that one day it might warm up again. That Fleur was thinking about her. But it never did. It just sat silently in her pocket. 

Being highly logical and pragmatic, Hermione made a list of everything that she could think of that would need to be addressed and in the relative order of immediate importance by time. Keeping Harry alive for the Second and Third Tasks. The events at the graveyard. The prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. The Horcruxes and the fact that she suspected Harry himself was a Horcrux. The Deathly Hallows, though this one was debatable. It was a children’s tale after all. Despite Harry’s firm belief that one could become the Master of Death, by owning the three magical objects, she was unconvinced. She sighed and scribbled down a few other things, like Sirius, Dumbledore, and the Order of the Phoenix. There were probably a number of other things that she wasn’t considering at this time, but these seemed like the big ones. She wondered what ripple effect would be set into motion by messing with the various events in time. Best to prepare for the worst and hope for the best.

 _Okay, to the list,_ she thought and started scribbling out her plans, ink dripping down her fingers. She decided to tackle the first three items first, seeing as the Horcruxes, Hallows, and prophecy weren’t as time sensitive and mostly hinged on the outcome of the other tasks. Especially since Voldemort wasn’t back to alert his followers to the existence of the prophecy nor did he consider anyone smart enough to discover the Horcruxes. She knew they still had some time before Voldemort's return, based on updates she was getting from Harry's dream. Nothing had really changed from the visions of the Riddle house and Bellatrix's cruel laugh. It seemed that the Dark Lord was still laying low.

The Second Task was easy. She would just make some comment about recognizing the screeching as Mermish. One benefit of being seen with giant stacks of books on language and linguistics was that it gave her a perfect excuse to know something so random. She would help Harry with defensive spells and heating charms and acquiring gillyweed after that.

The Third Task was tricky but relatively straightforward. She needed to think of a way to somehow have Harry still compete in the Third Task while also keeping him out of the graveyard _and_ not endangering the other Champions. She couldn’t think about what had happened to Cedric last time and cringed to think of that fate befalling Viktor… or Fleur. 

Of course, this was assuming the Third Task would be the same as last time, ending in a portkey trip to Little Haggleton. But she knew she couldn’t assume anything. So much about this timeline was already different from the first time that there was a good chance things might not play out the way she imagined them to. She was at a crossroads. One one hand she didn’t want to use her precious time making plans when the actual events about to unfold were completely different, thereby rendering her careful planning useless. On the other hand, she had no real leads other than theories and she didn’t want to waste time not planning. She came to a compromise... try to plan for anything and everything.

Regardless of what the future had in store for this timeline, there were things she _could_ do to prepare in advance. There were some potions she wanted to make and have on hand, just in case. _TIme to start pilfering from the Potions supply closet._ Without Snape noticing. This would be fun. 

She also knew that she needed to start working on Harry’s dueling skills. Even if he didn’t go to the graveyard on June 24, these were skills that would be helpful to him in any version of the future. She wasn’t naive enough to think that changing the outcome of the Triwizard Tournament and preventing Voldemort’s return in the graveyard would somehow fix everything. No, it was just the beginning.

Even if she figured out how to stop him that night, Voldemort would still be out there, thanks to the Horcruxes. It would only be a matter of time before he surfaced again. She knew that the Death Eaters were mobilizing anyway, so something was going to happen. She just didn’t know what that might be and they needed to be ready for anything. So she adopted the mindset that some sort of War was inevitable. Hopefully the skills and planning would be for naught and the War would be avoided somehow… but everything was so uncertain. She wasn’t willing to risk anything by being complacent or not taking a possible threat seriously.

She looked at her list and frowned. Everything seemed good in theory, but she knew success or failure would come down to the little details and there were so many unknowns. What she really needed was information. The obvious source of which was the man impersonating Moody himself. She knew that she had to be strategic. She couldn’t tackle him head on without spooking him or ending up on the wrong end of the Killing Curse. Nor could she approach anyone for help without revealing her plans or herself. _Ugh, being 15 again really limited her options._

She spent her nights watching the Marauder’s Map, keeping an eye on the Death Eater within their walls. She needed to find a way to infiltrate. Until then, she was at a standstill as far as specific plans went. She started hypothesizing various scenarios and planning for those, but she needed to know details before she could come up with anything solid.

In the meantime, she set up a makeshift potions lab inside the Room of Requirement. _God, how did she function before knowing about this room?_ She had thought about trying to find Rowena Ravenclaw’s Diadem. It would be one less thing to worry about. She also remembered that Harry had said that Voldemort felt a connection to the Horcruxes and each time one was destroyed he felt it. So she couldn’t destroy it, not yet. 

Nor could she take it with her. She remembered the influence of that damned locket and she knew that she couldn’t conceal such a dangerous Dark object. So letting the Diadem hide in plain sight was unfortunately the only real option at this time. She knew that the Horcrux was safe for the time being, no one in this timeline had any knowledge of the Horcruxes anyway. Well, maybe Dumbledore, but seeing as the Headmaster hadn’t destroyed it yet, she figured he was unaware of its existence. 

When she wasn’t sneaking extra portions of powdered root of asphodel, lacewing flies and other ingredients from her Potions class or developing various plans and contingency plans, she spent her time with Harry. Ron seemed to be stubborning himself to death and was giving them both the cold shoulder. She didn’t mind. It was one less thing to worry about. It did hurt her to see Harry so torn, stuck between his two friends. But she was grateful that Harry wasn’t subscribing to Ron’s hateful and small-minded views and seemed to fully accept her. 

Being around Harry also kept her mind off of a certain French witch that kept creeping into the back of her mind. Try as she might, she couldn’t get away from Fleur. They had the exact same schedule, after all. The blonde was respecting her request for space. While she did not try to approach her or talk to her, she was still polite and cordial if their paths crossed. But it seemed that they were both determined to give each other a healthy distance.

She started off by easing Harry into dueling lessons in the Room, which had magically equipped itself with a dueling stage for them to use, along with sparring dummies. It reminded her of the set up for Dumbledore’s Army practice in their fifth year. 

He had been impressed by the Room and her lab set up. When he asked her about the rows of bubbling cauldrons, she told him that it was to help her get ahead in Potions class. He knew that she struggled with this subject more than others and didn’t question it further. She still did well in the class in her earlier years, it just didn’t come naturally to her like charms or transfiguration.

She, on the other hand, was rather impressed by his dueling skill. He seemed more advanced than she remembered him being in their fourth year. He was working on at least fifth year level, maybe slightly higher. _Had he been studying ahead?_ She doubted it. Aside from reading about Quidditch strategies, Harry had always been content doing the bare minimum to scoot by. Then again, he had Ron hanging off him, convincing him to ditch his studies and go fly or goof around with wizard's chess.

“Protego!” Hermione cast her shield charm to deflect Harry’s incoming body bind curse. “Nice job. You’re doing really well, Harry!”

“Thanks, Hermione. You too! You’re really strong. I can’t get past your defensive enchantments!” Harry huffed. “Can we take a quick break? We’ve been going at it for a couple hours…”

“Yeah, sure.” Hermione walked to the center of the stage and sat down, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. “How did you learn that leg locker curse you threw at me? That’s an advanced charm.”

Harry sat down and twiddled his fingers together nervously… “I… errr… I’ve been getting a little help. It seems like you aren’t the only one interested in teaching me to duel.”

Hermione sat up “You’ve been getting private lessons? From a professor?”

“Uh, no, not exactly… It’s… It’s Fleur. She's been helping me all year.” Harry looked at her sheepishly “I’m sorry, I know you guys had a bit of a falling out and I didn’t want to bring it up. She told me not to talk about it, didn’t want others to think we were cheating or anything.”

“It’s fine. She is free to do what she wants. And I’m glad she’s been helping you. It’s obvious that you’ve learned a lot from her.” Hermione felt a strange pang of guilt, jealousy, and relief. She had always taken it upon herself to keep Harry out of trouble, it made her feel like he didn’t need her. Which was an absolutely ridiculous way of thinking. She was glad that Harry was getting extra help, in fact it made her job of trying to keep him alive easier. She knew that Fleur was skilled and he could learn a lot from her.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” His bright green eyes swimming with concern at how she would react.

“Not at all! Honestly.” Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed it to reassure him. “I mean, It’s a bit of a surprise to be sure… I didn’t realize you were very close.” Fleur had never mentioned spending time with Harry before. 

Harry sighed, visibly relieved. “Yeah… she said she didn’t think it was fair they were making me do this Tournament… And for the record, we don’t talk about the tournament at all. She just shows me random special spells and stuff…”

Hermione nodded slowly, that explained his confidence the night of the Champion Selection Ceremony “Good. Never hurts to be extra prepared, right?”

“Yeah… I’m glad I have both of you guys helping me…” He looked like he wanted to elaborate but decided against it, for which Hermione was glad. She didn’t want to think about Fleur. And she hated that she felt her feelings flaring up a little. It reminded her how amazing and kind Fleur was, that she would go out of her way to help Harry, who was her competitor, like this. She quickly pushed her feelings back down “Hey, let’s go get dinner. I think a hot meal will do us both a lot of good.”

Harry nodded eagerly and hopped down.

  
  


Near the end of January, Hermione decided that it was time to put the ‘Second Task plan’ in action. She hadn’t given him the shove toward figuring out his egg, yet, not wanting to raise suspicions by having him solve it too soon. Besides, she wanted him to try on his own. She had noticed that the other Champions seemed to have figured out their egg and had started training in the Lake. It was go time. 

She and Harry were sitting in the Common Room one afternoon. The place was empty, most of the students were down in Hogsmeade but neither of them had felt like going. Everything was in place, even the props that she had ‘staged’ in advance to make the scene look as innocent and inconspicuous as possible.

“Harry… can I hear the sound again?” Hermione looked up from a giant tome she had checked out from the library that happened to include mermaid language. “I just came across something that might be promising.”

Harry raised his eyebrow “Sure… Let me go get it.”

A few minutes later the room was filled with the horrible screeching sounds of Mermish above water.

Hermione clamped her hands over her ears. At least that reaction was authentic… “That’s enough! Close it!” She screamed, trying to be heard over the assault on her ear drums.

Harry gladly obliged and twisted the cap back on “Merlin, I hate this thing. What kind of clue is this rubbish?”

Hermione pointed at the page she had conveniently flipped to. “I came across some information and it made me wonder if maybe we’re just listening to it wrong. Like this says that some languages can only be heard in different mediums. Sound travels through it differently than air...”

Harry wandered over and read over her shoulder “You think… Mermish? So what, listen to it in water?”

“Maybe?” Hermione coaxed without seeming too knowledgeable.

“I guess it’s worth a try. I’m kind of out of options.”

Hermione shrugged “What could it hurt?”

Harry went to retrieve the egg from under the pillow he had shoved on it “Guess it’s time for a bath then.” He turned to walk away.

“Hey Harry, before you go… Do you think you could teach me parseltongue? I’m just so fascinated by languages and there’s almost nothing written about it. Believe me, I’ve read every book in the library.”

“Sure, Hermione.” Harry chuckled “Always trying to learn something new. There’s a reason they call you the Brightest Witch of Your Age.”

“Oh shove off, you...” Hermione laughed and threw a pillow at him as he darted up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory.

Once he was out of sight, she sighed and flopped down. _Okay, one step down… a million to go._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Is everything prepared for the next task?”

“Of course, Master… Crouch is playing his part well and they suspect nothing. Very soon, the time will come for you to rise again.”

“Good… and what of the girl?”

“He’ll make sure she is there when the time comes.”

“Time and again, you have proven that you are my most loyal servant… and you will be rewarded in kind.”

“Thank you, Master.”


	17. Chapter 17

It was finally the night before the Second Task. Hermione had done all she could to prepare Harry. The gillyweed had been acquired and the Boy Who Lived was able to cast a decently strong warming charm that should last the full hour. They had been practicing in the Lake each evening ever since the night Harry solved the egg riddle. With almost a full month of swim conditioning and spell practice, there wasn’t much more to be done, so she had sent him to bed early to get a good night’s rest.

Like so many nights before, Hermione stayed up late watching her copy of the Marauder’s Map, her curtains drawn and silencing wards in place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Dumbledore was pacing in his study. Snape was taking House points away from students he caught out of bed. Moody was in his room, looking frustratingly innocent. Rita Skeeter was… _Wait! What?_

She gripped the map tightly when she saw a set of footprints with Rita’s name floating below them in the Great Hall, right by Cedric Diggory, presumably eavesdropping on the Hufflepuff Champion. _How could she have forgotten!?_ It was perfect! She had just found her spy, in the form of a tiny green beetle shapeshifter. Now all she needed to do was catch the nasty reporter while she was in her illegal Animagus form. That would give her the leverage she would need to ‘coerce’ her into helping. 

She hopped off her bed and grabbed her bewitched knapsack from her trunk, grabbing a vial with a cork stopper from inside. She tucked the vial into her robe pocket and wiped the Map, shoving it in the pack. She figured if she hurried she could get down there before the beetle disappeared. 

She was stepping out of the portrait when she heard someone calling to her. 

“Oi, Granger!” Fred and George were strutting down the hall.

“Hey you two… is something wrong?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at them as they launched into their classic ‘twin speak’ of finishing each other’s sentences.

“If there is then we take full credit…” Fred started. Or was it George? Freorge spoke.

“But sadly no, nothing’s wrong, we were just coming to get you...”

“Cuz McGonagall wants you in her office…”

“Right away, she said…”

“No lollygaggin’ or going to the library.”

Hermione’s blood froze. She had missed a key detail. She had assumed that Ron would be Harry’s treasure this time and she would be off the hostage hook. But clearly that was not the case. Probably because of the gigantic iceberg currently wedged between two-thirds of the Golden Trio and the remaining member. 

“Oh, thanks for letting me know. I’ll head that way then.” Hermione quickly recovered from her shock and hurried to meet the Gryffindor Head of House. _Shit, shit, shit._

Just as before, once she was with McGonagall, she was escorted to Dumbledore’s office, where Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch were standing with the three schoolmasters. Hermione noted that the hostage line up was different this time around. 

The first time she had been Viktor’s treasure. Seeing as she had no reason to be his this time, she assumed that the Ravenclaw girl he went to the Ball with was his new treasure. Next to the mystery Ravenclaw sat another Ravenclaw girl, Cho Chang. Cedric’s treasure, that was the same at least. She was surprised to see Evangeline sitting there, too, looking rather confused, trying to catch Maxime’s eye.

Hermione felt a surge of _something_ when she saw the Frenchwoman. _Fleur’s treasure,_ she thought, slightly bitterly. That could have been her. She shoved down the pang of jealousy and gave Evangeline a soft smile. It was a shame, she had actually liked hanging out with Evangeline.

“Ah, perfect, Miss Granger, a lovely evening to you!” Bagman chirped excitedly and launched into his spiel, explaining why they had been summoned there and what the task entailed. They were all reassured that even if their Champion failed to retrieve them, they were in no danger, the Merpeople would release them after the Task ended.

The perky game overseer went down the line, getting verbal confirmation that each hostage willingly submitted to be a part of the Tournament, then placing them under the paralyzing charm. 

After that, it all went black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_“Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching, ponder this;_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And recover what we took,_

_But past an hour — the prospect's black,_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.”_

Fleur listened to the Egg’s song one more time as she took a bath. The Second Task was the next day and she wanted to relax. She felt pretty confident in her new strategy and had a backup plan in place. So she decided that it would be best to go to sleep early and be well-rested for the next day. 

In the beginning of February she added an hour swim in the Lake to her daily fitness routine. She had strategically waited to add swim training because she didn’t want to give away the fact that she already knew what the Task was, practicing her aquatic spells in the privacy of her bathtub. So for the time being she stuck to her daily run and various exercises like pushups and crunches to stay in shape. Once she saw Viktor and Cedric start their training, she went full steam ahead.

She was grateful for the Underarmour that Hermione had given her. It made her exercises more pleasant in the frigid winter weather. Whoever thought it was a good idea to force a group of teenagers to swim in a giant lake in February in the Scottish Highlands really was a sadistic bastard. _Probably Ludo fucking Bagman._

After her bath she got ready for bed and burrowed into her warm blankets. She fell asleep with a slight smile. This time she wouldn’t get stopped by the grindylows. This time she would save her sister. This time she wouldn’t fail. 

The next morning Fleur woke to a soft body bellyflopping on her as she slept.

« Fleurrrrrr! Wake uppppp! It’s tournament day! »

Fleur blinked, but when her eyes met her sister’s, she felt a rush of dread coursing through her body. She immediately knew the truth in her heart before her brain could fully process it. She jumped up so fast she practically threw Gabrielle off the bed.

Valadarian, the miniature Horntail, hissed in displeasure from its place on Gabrielle’s neck. She had ordered the tiny dragon to essentially babysit her sister and keep her in line, but it seemed that the two had bonded. Fleur didn’t mind. She was glad that Gabrielle had a friend to keep her company when she was away in class during the day. The tiny reptile also provided a little protection for her sister.

 _No, no, no, no!!!_ Fleur thought, pacing around her room, borderline panicking. 

« Fleur? What’s wrong? »

« I overslept. I wanted to have time to stretch and prepare. » Fleur lied quickly, glad that her sister believed it without question. « Sorry, Gabrielle. Thank you for coming to visit me, but I need a little time right now. Why don’t you take Valadarian with you and make your way to the observation stands. I’ll be there soon and will be sure to come find you before the task. I promise. » She kissed her sister’s forehead and gently shoved her toward the door. She was barely keeping it together.

« Sure, Fleur… whatever you need. » The young girl nodded, pouting sadly but left her sister alone to her thoughts.

 _« It’s not Gabrielle this time… They have her! »_ Fleur wailed. How did they know? It had been over two months since she and Hermione had interacted! There was no reason to suspect that Hermione meant so much to her!

 _« Who? »_ Her Veela responded

_« They took Hermione. She is my treasure to save. »_

_« Are you sure? It could be anyone. »_

_« Non, I can feel it in my heart. The assholes take the most precious person to us. Incentive to do well. »_ Fleur spat bitterly, her anger bubbling up inside. It had been bad enough thinking it was Gabrielle… but her mate?! She hadn't even considered the possibility.

Her Veela was beside herself at the thought of her mate being on the bottom of the Lake, thrashing and screeching inside her head, telling Fleur to get her ass into the water right away and save their mate. 

Fleur sighed and paced around, trying to calm herself down. Getting panicked wasn’t going to save Hermione. No, she needed to focus. She would only be successful if she kept control and in a clear state of mind.

She took a deep breath and went to her wardrobe to get her bathing suit. She looked at the one piece and decided it needed some adjustments. Once it was in pace, she transfigured deep blue fabric into a sort of neoprene-spandex blend, getting the idea from her Underarmour outfit. It was light and breathable, though in this case, waterproof, and flexible to make moving easier. She modified the suit to cover more of her body, extending the legs to cover her thighs down to her knees. She repeated the same spell on her arms to the elbow. She made sure to cast a strong concealment charm over her hips. She did not want to have to explain that surprise to anyone.

Next she strapped a leg holster to her thigh and set her wand in its place. She decided to pull her hair up into a ponytail rather than leaving it down like last time. As she stood at her vanity fixing her hair, a flash of blue caught her eye. 

She looked down and saw her gift from Hermione sitting on the little pillow. She picked it up and put it in a pocket that she quickly added to the side of her suit, illusioning it away and out of sight. She had no intention of using it. That would be cheating. But the marble made her feel connected to the brunette and kept her grounded. A good luck charm.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, nodding her approval at her appearance.

“I’m coming, Hermione…”

Fleur made her way toward the tournament ‘arena’ by the Black Lake. She had opted to wear a thick robe to keep her warm and covered until the Task actually started. She arrived at the same time as Cedric and Harry, both coming down the hill from the castle. Krum was already there, having the shortest distance to go from the Durmstrang ship.

The four Champions all looked at each other, their eyes all full of worry and dread. It seemed they had figured out that something important had been taken last night.

« Fleur! » Gabrielle jumped down the stands and wrapped herself around Fleur’s waist. « Be safe okay? »

« I’ll do my best. Why don’t you sit with Evangeline and Valadarian and wait for me. »

Gabrielle furrowed her tiny brow « Evangeline isn’t here. I thought she would be with you. »

That caught Fleur off guard a little. She looked into the stands where the Beauxbatons students were sitting in their distinct powder blue uniforms. Sure enough, no Evangeline. She didn’t have time to think because Bagman came striding over, his usual “excited child at Christmas” grin plastered on his face.

“Perfect, Champions! Come with me.” He led them down the dock that jutted out about 15 feet into the Lake, with a long perpendicular section of dock at the end like a large T. Unlike the first time, the spectator stands had been built on land on the edge of the Lake, rather than on giant stilts over the water.

At the end of the dock, Bagman put them in position, each spaced about 10 feet away from the next Champion. “Champions, please remove all outer robes and prepare yourselves.”

While they were removing their warm layers, the game maker turned to address the spectators.

“Welcome to the Second Task. Last night, something was taken from each of our Champions…”

Fleur closed her eyes and took several deep calming breaths, listening in the back of her mind, but the majority of her focus was on the inky expanse of water in front of her. Somewhere out there was her mate.

“They will have one hour. After that they are on their own. Champions, at the sound of the cannon!” 

Fleur dove as soon as the cannon signaled the beginning of the Task and grains of sand started flowing in a giant hourglass, starting the countdown. On the way into the water, she started silently casting her enchantments. First was a heating charm so her muscles didn’t seize up. Then she dealt with the issue of breathing underwater for an hour. She decided to try a different tactic this time than the Bubble Head charm she used last time. 

Her new plan was risky, but since she had the luxury of a head start, she took full advantage of her extra time. She had the Bubble Head charm as a back up plan in case her new idea failed.

She had started by researching sirens, drawing inspiration from the Merpeople themselves. According to Veela history, there was a time when there was a unified race of land-dwelling sirens. Over time, the Veela and Merpeople evolved from this race and split off to become separate species, one taking to the winds and the other to the waves. Various tales explained the cause of this split but one thing remained. They were once one race. She wondered if she could draw on their shared ancestry and find a way to transfigure her Veela strengths and anatomy to be more suited to water than air.

Next she had learned a complicated transfiguration that would temporarily give her similar qualities to her watery distant relatives. She cast the spell and felt the changes coursing through her body.

Her eyes grew a second membrane that kept the water out and granted her dark vision in the murky depths. Her nose became two long slits that filtered oxygen from the water. Her hearing became more tuned to the watery environment and she could hear with surprising clarity. She sprouted small fins along her forearms and calves, which is why she hadn’t made a full body suit.

Once the transformation was in place, it was time to test the waters. Of course she had practiced extensively but it only had about a 75% success rate. But if she could get it to work, it was much more efficient than the Bubble Head charm, which was bulky and cumbersome and would slow her down. 

It went against her every instinct to breathe water but she calmed her inner Veela and took a tentative breath. She had her wand ready in case she needed to cast an emergency air bubble.

She felt water rush in one side of her elongated nostril and out the other. No sputtering or inhaled liquid. _Perfect._

Satisfied with her work, she took off to look for her mate, following her Veela instinct and the distant sounds of the Merpeople’s songs.

At the 30 minute mark, Fleur heard a loud banging noise echo through the water, like someone hit a large drum or a gong. She picked up the speed and kept pushing on. 

She saw the kelp forest ahead, her downfall the first time. She gave it a wide distance, swimming about 20 feet above the tops of the dark green fronds. She saw little beady eyes staring up but the grindylows stayed in their habitat. _Not this time you little shits!_

Up ahead she saw the distant outline of what looked like a sunken city. Huge columns and domed buildings appeared out of the haze. As she approached she saw the Merpeople watching her curiously. She heard them muttering quietly about her Veela but they allowed her to pass, brandishing their tridents.

She saw a bubble trail up approaching from her left side and realized it was Harry. She smiled to herself, relieved that he had done so well. His feet looked like giant fins and his hands were webbed, propelling his body through the water with grace and ease. Long rows of gills had grown on his neck. 

Fleur kicked harder to intercept him and they approached four shapes. Each looked like it was connected to a sort of rope attached at the ankle. From a distance they reminded her of balloons bobbing along. Human balloons. Their robes and hair were billowing in the water around them, but otherwise they all looked peaceful, as if they were asleep. 

As they got closer, Fleur could see the faces. Hermione was the easiest to recognize because of the mess of brown hair, but she also saw Evangeline, Cho, and the Ravenclaw girl Viktor took to the Ball. _Oh, they just used their Yule Ball dates!_ Fleur felt relieved that it was such a superficial reason. It meant that her secret about Hermione being her mate was still safe. But she couldn’t help feeling unconvinced that the reason was so simple. She still felt doubt niggling at the back of her mind and she still felt uneasy about the situation. 

She looked over at Harry, who simply nodded and jutted his chin toward her then Hermione. He seemed to understand that Hermione was her treasure. He, on the other hand, went straight for Evangeline without missing a beat, untying her kelp rope with his webbed fingers. Fleur withdrew her wand again and cast a charmto sever the thick bonds connected to Hermione’s ankle.

Once they had their hostages, Fleur and Harry made their way to the surface together, pulling their treasures along.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The first thing Hermione felt was the cold air stinging her face, followed by a very unpleasant feeling of heavy, wet clothes clinging to her body. _Ugh, not this again._ At least Harry rescued her. She coughed and took several deep, desperate breaths, trying to kick her feet to stay afloat.

She had breached the surface facing away from the shore and she flailed around a moment in her disorientation as she tried to get her bearings, but she felt a firm hand on her arm.

“I’ve got you… you’re safe now, ‘Ermione.”

“Fl-Fleur?” Hermione sputtered, stunned when she heard Fleur’s voice. She had been certain that she had been Harry’s treasure. _She was Fleur’s treasure?_ But… everything they had said at the Yule Ball? It didn’t make sense. Her head was pounding, a mix of coming out of her paralyzed state and trying to process this rather shocking turn of events. Did she mean so much to Fleur? More than Gabrielle, her own sister? 

She spun around in the water, convinced that her mind was playing tricks on her. 

Sure enough, Fleur was bobbing in the water next to her, her face slowly morphing back to her usual features. It appeared that she hadn’t used the Bubble Head Charm this time around. "B-but... Evangeline?"

“She was Harry's. Can you move your legs? We need to get to shore quickly. We don’t want hypothermia.”

“Yeah…” Hermione nodded shakily, her teeth starting to chatter, but she felt a wave of warmth wash over her. A heating charm. She was grateful that Fleur was so thoughtful. She was mid-swimming her way back to shore when she realized that the spell had been cast completely nonverbally and without a wand, since one of Fleur’s hands was still on her arm and the other was empty. _Impressive indeed._ Well beyond the requirement or expectations for a 7th year. Perhaps Beauxbatons was more demanding of their upper class students. Or maybe Fleur was just that good.

A few minutes later, both women were back on the dock, wrapped up in warmed, fluffy towels. Harry and Evangeline were there as well, having arrived slightly ahead of Fleur and Hermione. 

Bagman came and returned wands to Hermione and Evangeline while Madame Pomfrey did quick inspections on the four of them, but they all seemed to be in good health, aside from being wet and cold. 

Hermione quickly cast a drying spell on the four of them, but it did little to fight off the bone-chilling numbness she was currently experiencing, even with the various heating charms. This cold went straight to her core, gripping her tight and chilling her from the inside out. A side effect of being in her state of suspended animation for so long. 

As she stood there shivering, Hermione looked curiously between the other couple, raising a subtle eyebrow at Harry, who sheepishly shrugged. She turned to Fleur, who was being squeezed to death by Gabrielle. They were both speaking in rapid French. “Ermmm… thank you, Fleur. For rescuing me.”

“Eet was nozzing.” Fleur’s stunning blue gaze flicked up to meet hers. As she extracted herself from the tiny part-Veela, she offered the brunette witch a small smile. “I told you I would always be zere for you eef you needed eet.”

Hermione slowly but something caught her eye. A tiny beetle on Fleur’s shoulder. She couldn’t believe her luck! She subtly reached into her pocket, grateful to find that the vial was still in there. She turned and faked a sneeze, using the motion to extract her vial and unstopper it. In a swift motion, she turned back around and reached toward Fleur's shoulder. She quickly scooped the little green beetle into the vial, hastily shoving the cork onto it. She held up her prey, grinning victoriously.

“What was zat about?” Fleur raised her eyebrow, confused by Hermione’s actions.

“It’s a rare kind of beetle I’ve wanted to study… Really one of a kind.”

“You are interested een beetles, too?” Fleur looked closer at the contents of the vial "Eet looks like an ordinary beetle to me..."

Harry chimed in and unintentionally gave her the perfect excuse. “Yeah, if it exists, you can guarantee that Hermione will know about it or be studying it…”

Hermione chuckled at her friend's innocence, tucking the vial into her pocket. “Yeah, you got me…” She was interrupted by a huge roar from the crowd as Viktor emerged, his head mid-morph from a shark to human. It was a grotesque and deeply unsettling image. Cedric emerged with Cho as the final grains of sand fell in the timer.

Hermione watched as the two men returned to shore and the judges all huddled to discuss scores. She noted that both looked like they had been in a fight. Cedric was bleeding extensively, as was Krum, and a dark bruise was already shining prominently on his cheek. She huddled next to Harry, who was standing next to Evangeline. She was disappointed and relieved that Fleur had taken position with Gabrielle on the other side of Evangeline. 

Curiously, a humanoid figure breached the water near the dock and Dumbledore went over to speak to them. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but it was clear that the two were conversing, probably in Mermish because she couldn’t decipher their lip movements as anything resembling the English language. Dumbledore was suddenly looking rather upset about something and he stood and gestured for Karkaroff to join them.

Being down two judges, the Champions, hostages, and spectators had to wait to hear the final verdict for the Task. After the secret meeting on the dock concluded, Karkaroff stormed back to the judging station muttering angrily under his breath, glaring daggers at his Champion.

The judges resumed their huddle and moments later, Bagman took a step away to announce the results. Holding his wand to his throat, his voice amplified so loudly that people in London could have heard the announcement.

“In first place, for arriving first and an impressive use of gillyweed, Harry Potter, with a score of 45.” The crowd cheered loudly and Hermione couldn’t help but scowl at them because just months ago the majority of those students had turned their backs entirely on Harry. Now that he was doing well they seemed to forget about those dumb buttons and were full-on Team Potter again. Ugh. 

“In second place, arriving second and displaying a masterful use of full-body transfiguration techniques, Fleur Delacour, with a score of 43.” A more subdued applause was given for Fleur.

“Now, it has come to our attention that there has been some infighting between the other Champions. While Viktor Krum of Durmstrang finished third, it has been reported that he attacked the Hogwarts Champion, Cedric Diggory, in an unprovoked strike. As such, he has been penalized and the results now stand with Mr. Diggory in third place with a score of 37 and Mr. Krum in fourth with a score of 31.”

Bagman waited for the applause and boos to die down before finishing his speech

“The overall scores stand thus… Currently, we have a tie for first place between Miss Delacour and Mr. Potter, with Mr. Diggory in third and Mr. Krum in 4th. Thank you for coming out to show your support for these Champions and we shall all see you on June 24th for the action-packed conclusion of this fantastic tournament!”

Hermione looked over at Fleur and Harry, offering them her congratulations and politely excused herself to go warm up and change. Harry bid farewell to Fleur and Evangeline and hurried after Hermione, eager to get away from the crowd and into something dry.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself for some 'don't fuck around with me' Hermione.

Hermione looked over at Harry while they walked back to Gryffindor Tower. “So… something you want to tell me about Evangeline?”

Harry blushed brightly awkwardly trying to explain. His nerves were showing as he stammered and tripped over his words. “I… errr… right… I meant to tell you about that… She and I… well, we’re kind of hanging out… a lot. Like, we’re kind of dating... I think. I don't know... Girls are kind of complicated.”

“Ha, tell me about it!” Hermione gave a throaty laugh of agreement but she still raised an eyebrow at him. She was curious why he hadn’t told her. And that somehow she totally missed the signs of the growing relationship between her best friend and the brunette part-Veela. _Oh, right, planning for the apocalypse took priority._

Harry misunderstood her gaze as disapproval and hastily went on to explain “I know I’m supposed to be focused on this tournament and all but at the Yule Ball we realized we have a lot in common actually. She was raised part-Muggle and we get to joke around about stuff… and she’s the Seeker for one of the Beauxbatons Quidditch teams!“ Harry’s face lit up brightly as he recounted what he had learned about the Frenchwoman and things he and Evangeline had done. Thankfully not in great detail. Mostly just talking and a little snogging. All pretty innocent stuff.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile at her friend's happiness. “I’m glad for you both, really!”

“I guess I was worried to tell you because you know, she’s Fleur’s friend and all… she just makes me really happy inside.”

“That’s great, Harry! For Morgana’s sake you deserve some good in your life after everything you’ve been through!” She grinned mischievously and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow “so… are you telling me that you _are_ actually in _loooove_? Which I will remind you, you denied so furiously when I first asked you...”

Harry rolled his eyes and playfully shoved her back “I dunno, I mean, she’s going back to France after this. But I really do like her!”

“I’m sure you two will figure something out.” 

By this point they had reached the Gryffindor Common Room. Gratefully everyone was still at the Lake or on their way back. Soon the place would be full of celebration in Harry’s honor. With a smile and hug they went their separate ways.

Once in her room, Hermione decided to let Rita sit and wait for a bit before launching the plan she was quickly forming in her head. One of the benefits of spending so much time on the run for the last year and change? She had had a _lot_ of free time on her hands. She used that time to work on charm theory and she had managed to modify a number of spells. Seemed like the perfect time to finally use them.

She was glad to see that, like the rest of the Gryffindor students, Lavender and Pavarti had not returned from the Lake yet. She shoved the glass vial under her pillow for safe keeping, she didn’t trust Crookshanks with it, then she took a nice hot shower. She was sure to take her time, letting the water soothe her aching muscles. Whatever spell they used to paralyze them this time had some really nasty after effects. 

Feeling slightly rejuvenated, she returned to her area and changed into warm clothes. She drew the drapes and cast a strong silencing charm, along with several other defensive wards, to fend off eavesdropping and interruptions. Once the spells were in place, she took the vial out from under her pillow, not particularly caring if she jostled the tiny occupant. She held the glass tube up and stared at the green beetle in the face, noticing a subtle pattern over its eyes that looked like Skeeter’s horn-rimmed glasses. 

“Listen here, you… I’m going to let you out and we’re going to have a little chat between girls. But I warn you, I’ve got my wand on you. If you try to escape or do any funny business, I won’t hesitate to squish a bug. In this form no one would be the wiser, anyway… especially since you’re unregistered… isn’t that right, Miss Skeeter?”

The beetle glared, or gave the impression it was glaring if it could make facial expressions. Eventually it nodded.

Hermione uncorked the vial and dumped the insect unceremoniously into the bed, her wand tip hovering inches away. In a flash, a full grown Rita Skeeter was sitting there. 

“Ugh, that was most undignified.” She huffed, straightening her hair, glasses, and lime green jacket before fixing Hermione with a proper glare “And you, little girl… how dare you. Capturing me like that? You think I’m afraid of you? You think you can threaten me?”

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly “Yup, I sure do… because if you don’t comply, I’ll tell the Ministry that you’re an unregistered Animagus. And you and I both know the punishment for failure to register…”

Skeeter gulped slightly “Fine… what do you want? Money? Fame? I’m very influential, I can get you whatever you want. I have my sources.”

“Which is exactly why I chose you, Miss Skeeter. A woman with your connections and unique abilities is of great use to me.”

“Well, spit it out girl, I haven’t got all day.”

“Actually you do because I say so… one owl is all it takes… but I digress. I want two things. First, all future coverage of the Tournament must be objective and factual and not slanderous toward any of the Champions. In particular, I would appreciate it if you stopped calling Miss Delacour a floozy and making Mr. Potter sound incompetent.”

Rita opened her mouth to protest but Hermione held up her index finger and waggled it in front of her nose, causing the faux-blonde to go slightly cross eyed.

“I wasn’t finished and It’s rude to interrupt. This is a polite conversation after all.”

Rita grumbled under her breath that there was nothing polite about blackmail.

“As I was saying, I want two things. The second is information. I need you to follow Professor Moody, no questions asked. All night, every night and report back to me. You’re free to do with your days to tend to your other needs and responsibilities, but your watch will be 9pm to 7am. I think a check in every three days should suffice. We can meet at Hogsmeade at the Three Broomsticks.”

“ _What?!_ What about my job? My life?”

“You’ll have neither if you are in Azkaban. I suggest you write to the Prophet and tell them you’ll be on holiday for a while.” Hermione simply shrugged, otherwise keeping a calm and neutral expression. 

Rita grit her teeth. “And what information do you want me to find out?”

“Anything you can find but particularly any communications he is having. Post, Floo Network, or just seemingly talking to himself. Anything. If it comes out of his mouth, I want to know about it. Also, if he leaves or does something out of the ordinary, you follow. I want to know what he is up to.”

“For how long?” Hermione could practically see the steam jetting out of Skeeter's ears.

“Until I’m satisfied or get what I need. Whichever comes first.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to agree to those terms!”

Hermione just smiled sweetly “Au contraire, Miss Skeeter, that’s _exactly_ what I expect.”

Rita pursed her lips and adjusted her glasses. She started speaking in an overly sweet, condescending tone. “Oh, so the little girl thinks she can blackmail me? Making ridiculous demands like this? Honey, that’s _my_ area of expertise. You’re in over your head. You just messed with the wrong witch. The things I could write about you… I will ruin you!” She sneered and got up to stand, but Hermione shot her left hand out and grabbed Rita’s right hand as the older witch turned away. 

Hermione pointed around their joined hands with her wand and started muttering an incantation. Suddenly bright gold threads erupted from her wand tip, wrapping themselves around the hands and wrists.

“What are you doing!?!” Rita shrieked and tried to pull away but the threads held her firmly in place.

“My version of the Unbreakable Vow… This spell ensures that you will do exactly as I say. It also prevents you from communicating any information you find out with anyone other than myself and that the information you give me is objective, completely factual, and shared in full. In short, it compels you to tell me the truth and only the truth. I also added a fun little bit about consequences for breaking this agreement. A letter will be sent instantly to the Ministry alerting them to the presence of an unregistered Animagus and where to find you. Even if you move locations, the spell will track you.”

“You can’t have done all that. You’re like, 12!” Rita scoffed, feigning bravado, but her eyes were wide and fearful of the consequences.

“15 actually, and I think you’ll find that I’m not like any 15 year old you’ve ever met before. But go ahead, try your luck. Break the agreement if you dare. I’ll be sure to write to you in Azkaban. I'm sure there is some great gossip to cover there, especially with an insider's perspective... I hear the cells are just lovely. Real five star treatment. 6 feet across and well furnished with a pile of hay. One grey-ish mystery meal a day… Oh and the company is great, too. Dementors? They’re just charming. Had a run in with a few last year, actually. Great conversationalists, you could just give them a Kiss.”

Rita was fuming “Well, I must say, Miss Granger, I misjudged you. You certainly know how to play with the big girls after all... I can see a career in politics for you if you keep this up. How can you be sure I'm holding up my end of the bargain?”

"Wouldn't you like to know..." Hermione gave a sweet faux-smile.

The vile reporter glared at her, weighing her very short list of options “Well, consider Rita Skeeter at your service, Miss Granger.”

As soon as Skeeter agreed, the golden threads joining their hands seeped into the skin, leaving no trace.

“Marvelous! I knew we could come to an understanding. I’ll see you in three days in the Three Broomsticks. 7pm. Don’t be late.” Hermione wanted to grin, she was feeling very smug and proud of herself, but she did not. She remained cool and impassive. 

Rita threw the drapes open and scooted off the bed. She turned on her heel and transformed into her beetle shape as Hermione cracked the window so she could leave Gryffindor Tower. 

Once the beetle was gone and the window closed, Hermione flopped down on her bed, hands folded under her head. That went much better than expected. _So, what next?_

She had her potions in the works, and a number of plans and back up plans ready to go. All that there was left to do was wait for her first report from her little spy. Her thoughts turned to the questions raised by the Second Task. _Why was she Fleur’s treasure?_

She decided that speculating would get her nothing but a headache and more questions. It was time to have the heart to heart chat with Fleur that was long overdue. If nothing else, she would finally get some answers at least.

She rolled over and pulled out a piece of paper from her side table and scribbled a quick note before folding it into the shape of a flower and casting her transportation charm. The paper caught on fire and disappeared in a poof of smoke and ash.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur was hiding in her room, sprawled out on her bed, trying to avoid people and her feelings. She was confused by the way the Task has played out, specifically Hermione. She kept trying to convince herself that the treasures were selected because of the Yule Ball pairings, but even she was having a hard time fully believing that. 

After eating at Ravenclaw table for the past four months she had gotten to know Cho again, so she knew that in this timeline she and Cedric had been dating for almost two years and were quite serious. 

On their way back to the Carriage, Evangeline had come clean about sneaking off with Harry, though the part-Veela claimed everything was innocent... mostly. Just a few stolen kisses here and there, but they primarily just talked a lot. She knew that Evangeline had very different experiences growing up in both the magical and Muggle worlds and she was glad that her friend had found a kindred spirit in Harry. Plus, Harry was a genuinely good boy. A little young and naive at this time, but he had a pure heart and was loyal and brave. She hoped he would have the chance this time to grow into his full potential.

But that brought her back to her current worry, that the treasures had been chosen because of a deeper, more meaningful connection than just dates for a night. That meant it was still possible that someone suspected that Hermione meant more to her than she was letting on. 

It terrified her to think that someone might have deduced the truth of their mate connection. She felt an uneasy knot in her stomach when she thought about it more. If the War has taught her anything it was to trust her gut and wasn’t about to break that habit. She was not going to potentially bring Hermione to harm because she didn’t take a possible threat seriously. 

She would keep her eyes and ears open for anything suspicious. Starting with Moody. She had been keeping a passive watch on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor but now she was going to double those efforts. She remembered the way he had observed them so closely early on. In recent months he had let up but that swiveling, mechanical blue eye was always watching. Who knows what he had already reported back to Voldemort.

She was pulled from her thoughts when there was a soft pop and a crackling sound coming from her desk. She propped herself up on her elbows to look, then gasped when she saw a small blue flame appear midair. Leaping to her feet, she prepared to cast _Aguamenti_ , but the flame quickly burned out and a beautifully folded piece of paper dropped onto her desk. 

Fleur was almost positive who had sent the note and she chuckled, impressed, even though her heart was hammering almost painfully against her ribs. She carefully unfolded the note, unable to contain her smile. 

_Fleur,_

_Can we talk, please? I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow morning at ten, in the clearing when we first met while running. I understand if you don’t want to come, but I hope you do._

_-Hermione_

Fleur read the short note several times, afraid the message would suddenly change. Hermione wanted to talk with her. Even though she suspected the topic that was going to come up, she didn’t care. She had been going stir crazy wrestling with her Veela for the past two months. She missed the bookworm and she would take any opportunity to speak with her again. 

She stayed in the carriage the rest of the day, having her meals sent in. She was content to rest and regain her strength. The magic she had performed had been very taxing on her body, not to mention the physical toll of swimming around for an hour. It also gave her time to try to formulate a plan for tomorrow’s conversation. If Hermione used her necklace to ask the big question, she would answer in full. And even if Hermione didn’t, it might be time for some of the other truths to come to the surface. 

Fleur got to the snowy meadow early. It was a chilly day so she had bundled up in her warmest outfit. She was even wearing her Underarmour shirt and pants under her jeans and red cashmere sweater for extra warmth. She had also shrunk a blanket and fit it in her pocket, just in case it turned into a long conversation.

The undisturbed snow along the way to the meadow told her that either Hermione had not arrived yet or the young Gryffindor was approaching from the other direction. 

It turned out to be the latter. 

Fleur’s heart practically jumped out of her chest when she saw the Golden Girl walking toward her. She looked adorable in her jeans, thick, gray cable knit sweater, and matching scarf, hat and gloves, all Gryffindor red and gold. 

“Hi, Fleur” Hermione came to a stop a few feet from her “I’m glad you got my message, thanks for coming.”

“Bonjour, ‘Ermione. I did, though I will admit I did not want to open it, it was folded so beautifully. And we apparently both got the message to show up 15 minutes early.” She held her arm out to show her timepiece, which confirmed that they were both early.

Hermione laughed “yeah, I guess we did, didn’t we? Would you like to sit? Or standing is fine if you prefer.”

“Sitting works. I brought a blanket.” She smirked when she saw Hermione look at her, her raised eyebrows betrayed her confusion when she didn't see a blanket anywhere. She dug in her pocket to find the small folded blanket. 

“Voila!” She exclaimed proudly, holding the blanket in her palm.

“A shrinking charm. Very clever.”

“It’s been known to happen. Don’t tell me too much, it might go to my head.” Fleur grinned and turned to walk toward a sheltered grove of trees by the Lake’s edge. She had missed their easy, playful banter so much. 

Fleur found a dry patch under the trees and returned the blanket to its normal size and spread it out over the snow-free bit of ground. The blanket was big enough to give them both space to sit without touching, though she wanted to just wrap her arms around Hermione and hold her close. 

“This is nice.” She remarked as Hermione sat down a disappointingly large distance away. In reality it was just about six inches but to Fleur’s Veela anything other than touching was too far away. Fleur shushed her other half and turned her attention to her mate. 

“I’m sure you’ve guessed why I asked you here.” Hermione started the conversation.

“I can think of a few reasons. How about you just tell me what you want to talk about so I am not randomly guessing.”

Hermione took a deep breath “Okay, then. Why was I your treasure to find? Or why do you think?”

Fleur clenched her teeth, “Well, it looked like everyone was dated to the Ball. So that would make the most sense, I guess.”

Hermione shook her head “See, I thought that too at first, but the more I thought about it, I just don’t buy that reasoning. I heard the Egg’s message, too. The clue referred to something that you’ll sorely miss. Look, I’m not going to use a golden question-ring on this, so you don’t have to answer. But I should tell you that when it comes to my friendships, I value trust and honesty.”

“I know and I understand… and I wish I could be completely open with everything about myself. There are some things that I cannot say unless you ask the right question.” Fleur sighed “You mean so much to me.”

“More than your sister?” 

Fleur furrowed her brow, taken a little off guard by the question. _Did Hermione know something about the past timeline?_ That Gabrielle has been her treasure before? “Why do you say that?”

“Well, if I had a sister, I think I’d probably miss her more than some girl you met four months earlier.” Hermione shrugged, fiddling nervously with something on her neck.

Fleur watched. _This was it._

A moment later and Hermione had removed the delicate silver chain, the three gold rings still pulsing brightly in anticipation. 

Fleur's heart was going crazy. Her eyes wide as she watched, her gaze flickering from Hermione’s hand to her face. Her palms were sweating and her mouth felt like she had swallowed sand. The suspense was killing her. _Goddess, please just ask me already!_

Hermione was fiddling with her necklace, which was now resting in the palm of her left hand, her other fingers tracing the smooth gold rings. “Any question and you’ll answer it?”

“Oui, I promised you fully truthful answers for any three questions you might have.”

Hermione nodded and touched one of the rings as she asked her question. The ring glowed brighter when she touched it, then the light faded away once the question was spoken. “Am I your mate?” 

Fleur sighed and looked out across the Lake. She was feeling both relieved and nervous. “Oui.” She responded so quietly she wondered if Hermione had even heard her response. 

“So that is why I was your treasure in the Second Task...”

“Oui… I think that.” Fleur spoke again, a little louder this time. “But at the same time, I find it troubling if that was the actual reason behind them choosing you. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but honestly, I wish it were something as superficial as the dates we took to the Ball. But like you, I cannot fully believe that. This situation… It is complicated. Until you, I haven’t told anyone that I even found my mate, let alone your identity. Not even my family knows. It makes me nervous to think that someone might suspect our connection.”

Hermione listened quietly “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Fleur paused for a moment before speaking again “I could not because you are too young. Usually a mate is not identified until both parties are of age. You seem to be an exception to that rule. Regardless of why or how, my Veela recognized you as my one. I’m not sure the reason why but I physically could not speak to you about it. Probably some Veela magic to protect you from knowing the truth until you were old enough. I wanted to tell you, especially at the Ball, but it was like my mouth was full of cotton, preventing me from telling you anything directly. So I said what I could and tried to leave hints. I gave you that necklace with the hope that you might use it to ask me and I would have to answer. It was a loophole I found. I cannot deny my mate. But _you_ had to ask first.”

Hermione nodded slowly, Fleur could see something in those chocolate eyes that she couldn’t quite identify “I guess that makes sense. Wait… both parties? I thought you were 17...”

“I turned 18 a while back” Fleur was grateful that she had never actually told Hermione her birthday before, May 17, so she stretched the truth a little. She _had_ turned 18 a while back… three years ago.

“Oh, happy belated birthday then.” 

“Merci” Fleur was glad that Hermione was not questioning it and seemed oblivious to her white lie. She continued explaining herself. “Even if I could have told you, I probably would not have. Not yet at least. I wanted to give you a chance to experience life and grow up without the pressure of knowing that you are my mate. And I would like to make clear that I have no expectations and I definitely do not want you to feel pressured or like you owe me anything.”

“I appreciate that a lot…” Hermione murmured.

“Also, I do not mean to frighten you, but being my mate puts you in danger. You are still in school for several years and I won’t be able to protect you after this year. I am sure you are aware of my position within the Delacour Clan?”

Hermione shook her head. “Not really. I know you come from a powerful Clan, or that’s the impression I got when I talked with Evangeline a while ago. Otherwise I really don’t know much about the Veela governing systems or hierarchy.”

Fleur sighed “Well, when I was younger, my Veela presented as an alpha. That means that one day I will become the next leader of my Clan. A clan is a family line. Many clans form a Clan. Please don’t ask me why our ancestors used the same word, it doesn’t make sense to me, either. Sometimes I use the term flock instead to prevent confusion. So Delacour is both a clan and the Clan that is sworn to protect a number of clans in our area. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, actually. So… why is that dangerous for me?”

“Because I would do anything to protect you. It is rare to find one’s mate, so a Veela is extremely territorial and protective, but especially an alpha Veela… so if the wrong people found out then they could use you as leverage against me. They might hurt you or worse to get to me. It is not unheard of for mates, real or suspected, to be killed to try to weaken their Veela partner…” Her eyes flashed a dangerous red at the mere thought of something happening to Hermione.

“Because you will die if I do?”

“Non, because just the thought of you in danger drives me insane and I will do anything to keep you safe. Also that bit about Veela dying without her mate is not true.”

“But I read…”

“Books are not always right.”

Hermione gasped, a bit of her world shattered in that moment. She had never really thought about that prospect before. She always trusted books! 

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but when it comes to books written about Veela, very little is actually true. I mean, clearly they got the fact that we are all beautiful women right, but the accuracy pretty much ends there. For our survival we have had to become a secretive species. We guard our lore and heritage very closely, keeping information within both clan and Clan”

“Yeah, Evangeline mentioned some stuff about how wizards used to exploit the Veela…” Hermione offered.

“Yes they did. It still happens, but in different ways now. Our numbers have recovered and Clans have regained quite a bit of their former power, actually. Now we operate in the shadows and out of the spotlight, slowly influencing both Wizard and Muggle governments. We cannot be fully open about ourselves because prejudice, hate, and bigotry runs deep in most aspects of Wizarding society. Be that blood status, magical creatures and beings, sexual orientation, or anything else different from the ‘norm.’ All driven by fear of the unknown or what is perceived to be uncontrollable or dangerous. It’s particularly bad in Britain and the United States. France is a little less conservative in our thinking and laws, but it’s far from perfect.

“In Britain, Veela are classified as ‘dangerous magical creatures of near human intelligence’ and therefore all known Veela are registered, then closely monitored and regulated for the rest of their lives. Fortunately, as a French citizen, I am protected from your Ministry’s rules, so even though I revealed my Veela form, I was not placed on that list. It did make a little bit of a headache for my family but we were able to control it from getting out of hand. Now if anyone speaks of it, it’s just a rumor like anything else. No solid proof. Hardly credible.”

“That’s horrible!” Hermione exclaimed, her bright brown eyes darkening with anger at how Veela were treated. 

“Ironically, one of the strongest factions of Veela operates out of Britain.”

Hermione looked skeptical at this. Fleur just laughed and continued explaining.

“It’s true! There are a few Veela in Britain who have chosen to make the sacrifice to come out of hiding and register themselves. They are without a clan so they chose to serve all the clans and their Clan instead. They have no offspring and are otherwise unconnected so there is no threat of accidentally outing another Veela. These brave women serve as representatives and liaisons for the Veela Clans in governmental affairs while the rest operate behind the scenes. 

“Overlooking the fact that is extremely insulting and untrue to be classified right above ‘mindless beast’ status, it actually provided us with perfect cover. No one suspects us and we’re not in any hurry to change that. They underestimate what the Veela are capable of and it allows us the ability to quietly manipulate systems to best serve our needs. It’s similar to why I speak with an accent around others. It’s like a cloak. A misdirection.”

“Wow, I had no idea.”

“That was by careful design…” Fleur chuckled. “We don’t _want_ wizards to know. We hide in plain sight. They don't know our actual strength or numbers. If they had their way, they would probably try to lock us up and throw away the key. It’s happened before to other magical creatures and beings. Registration leads to abductions and disappearances and then… well, we both know what happens next.”

“Sadly, that makes sense and because I’m Muggle-born, I know all too well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of pureblood prejudice.” Hermione clarified. "So the Delacours..."

"Are just a strong and powerful wizarding family with great genes... now rumored to be of Veela descent but that last bit is unconfirmed." Fleur finished the sentence, understanding what Hermione was asking.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully for a moment then changed the topic. “Can we go back to something you said earlier for a moment? 

“Of course, ma belle.”

“You said that not even your family knows that I’m your mate. I’d imagine that would be something you would want to tell them, why didn’t you? Are you embarrassed by me?”

“Non, not at all! I am so very, very proud! But I could not tell them. The mating bond is one of the most sacred and revered connections in our culture and is a very closely guarded secret. It is almost as fundamental as our connection with our inner Veela.” 

Hermione blinked and nodded slowly.

Fleur just laughed “I know it’s a lot to take in at once. We can take a break if you need.” 

“Yes it is, but it’s so interesting, I want to know it all. Please keep going.”

Fleur smiled and continued. “Anyway, back to the weird workings of Veela magic… There are ancient Veela spells that actually prevent us from divulging our mate’s identity to others. Same with the identity of mated pairs we happen to know of.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide as saucers as she tried to absorb all of the information. The thought of fundamental or inherent magic made sense, wasn’t that what magic was to begin with? An ability one was born with or without? Was it so big of a stretch to think that there was species-specific magic, too? She thought about the Merpeople and Centaurs.

“Think of it like a Secret Keeper, except the two mates are the Keepers and they can only tell others together. So, for example, should you accept me as your mate, if we wanted to tell my mother, you and I would both have to be present and tell her together. She would become a secret keeper for us, but it ends with her. She could not turn around and tell Gabrielle or Grandmother. Alternatively, you alone could not tell Harry about us.” Fleur explained patiently.

“So much secrecy… I mean, it makes sense. Like you explained earlier, it seems like a captured mate is the ultimate bargaining chip for someone who wants to do ill to a Veela since you would do anything for the mate to keep them safe.”

“Yes, that is exactly it. Unfortunately, people can still guess or make assumptions without consequence to them. So many tragic stories…” Fleur trailed off and was quiet for a moment before continuing.

“In Veela culture, there is nothing more powerful than a fully bonded pair. Our minds, bodies, spirits, and magic are a perfect match for each other. In short, you are my complement and I am yours. My shortcomings are your strengths and vice-versa. I hate saying that we complete one another, because that implies that we are not whole or cannot function without the other, which clearly we can. It’s more like we help each other unlock an even greater potential. Over time our spirits and magic bond and strengthen, morphing into something more than the sum of its individual parts. It will make us both exceptionally strong and powerful.”

“So by having control of the mate, they would have control over a very powerful Veela?”

“Yes… It is both fortunate and unfortunate that it is so rare for a Veela to find her true mate. Unfortunate because she will never reach her full potential. But because it is so rare, the idea of mates and the mating bond has become something of a myth to anyone outside Veela society. Most people assume it doesn’t exist anymore or is something we made up. It actually helps protect true pairs because people tend to assume that a Veela and her partner are just lovers or in a non-mate relationship. Most modern Veela do not find their mate and end up settling down with someone else. My parents are an example of this. While we are capable of loving someone other than our mate, it is not the same. But now that I know you are my one, I cannot love another.”

“This is absolutely fascinating, there’s so much to learn… You’ve told me so much and I still have so many questions… Will you tell me everything?”

“So curious! But yes, I will. I must. It would be irresponsible for me to not tell you everything about myself and my heritage. You won’t need to use a question-ring either, I am compelled to inform you.”

“Because I’m your mate?”

“Exactly and there is much you do not know. I want you to have all the information about what that means for you. You still have a choice to make. Just because you are my mate does not mean I am automatically yours. You do not need to accept me if you do not want me as your mate. And like I said earlier, I do not want you to feel obligated to accept me.”

“So… the mating bond, does it have anything to do with why you didn’t kiss me at the Ball?”

“Partially. There are some things you need to know about Veela affection. A Veela can kiss someone who is not her mate with no long term consequences. Take Evangeline and Harry…”

“Ugh, no offense but I'd rather not think about that.” Hermione interrupted, earning her a scoff and a shoulder bump.

Fleur rolled her eyes and continued “The first kiss shared between true mates initiates the lifelong mating bond. It tells the Veela that her mate has accepted the bond. From then on, it is irreversible and our magic will start to merge. What I told you at the Ball still stands. Regardless of the reason why my Veela recognized you as my one, you are still a child. I cannot and will not take away your future, but I will wait for as long as it takes. Even if you do not accept me as your mate, I would still like to be a part of your life. As a friend or a protector, however you need me. It is very difficult for me to stay away from you. It goes against every instinct I have.”

Hermione tilted her head, still trying to soak in as much information as possible. “Can we back up a second? You said you were worried that someone might hurt me. Who has enough power to challenge a whole Veela Clan? Especially yours.”

Fleur paused “Voldemort. Or at least his Death Eaters and pureblood supremacists… I know that they are still out there and hatred doesn’t go away because the leader is gone. Evil like that is like a Hydra. Cut one head and there are still others.”

Hermione gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

“I’m sorry for using that name. I know you British are very... superstitious. But I assure you, the name is not cursed.”

“That’s not it.” Hermione shook her head and took a deep breath “Why do you think you could identify me as your mate when you said that your Veela shouldn’t recognize their one until both are 18? You keep saying you don't know or hedging around the answer, but your eyes tell me otherwise. Even if you don’t know for certain, I think you at least have a theory.”

Fleur sat silent for a long time, gazing over the Lake again. She saw movement in the corner of her eye, Hermione was reaching for another ring. “Non, save your question-ring. I will answer. I just need a minute.”

Hermione nodded and gave her time to process her thoughts. 

“You’re probably going to think me completely mad… I… Hermione. I’m so sorry… I have not been fully honest with you. I’m not who I appear to be. Well, I am, in a sense. I mean I’m still me… merde this is confusing. I’m… I’m from four years in the future. I don’t know how but I somehow got sent back in time and trapped inside my 17 year old body…”

 _Silence._ Pure, absolute silence.

Fleur sat quietly with her eyes closed. When she opened them she was surprised to see Hermione crying. She was immediately concerned. This was not the reaction she was expecting. “‘Ermione? What is wrong?”

“Fleur… I’m so sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault! I didn’t know!”

“What is your fault?”

“Fleur, I’m the reason you got sent back here.”

“WHAT?! HOW?!”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out all year! That and finding a way to stop Voldemort from coming back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my awesomely fantastic readers coming along on this journey with me! I’d like to take a moment to say thank you so much! Over 7k views in one week since I started posting this story? That’s crazy! I’m so overwhelmed by your support, thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you have been enjoying reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing.
> 
> Also I was not planning this side thing with Harry and Evangeline... they were just supposed to be platonic friends...


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who read Ch18 right after I posted (around 11am PST on 5/23/2020) I also accidentally hit post prematurely and was still editing a few details since you read/commented, particularly in the second half... They're not of huge consequence for the overall plot but it might be useful down the road. Sorry!

The two witches sat in silence as the weight of the truth settled like a thick blanket around them. The tension was stifling. Hermione was waiting with bated breath for Fleur's response, but the Frenchwoman was struggling to think of what to say. What was there to say? Lots and nothing at the same time. 

Part of Fleur wanted to be mad, but it was more her fight or flight instinct in response to the startling news. Despite having wings, she was more of a fighter when she was suddenly surprised or taken off guard, always quick to lash out with her sharp tongue.

Then her logical side kicked back in once she had time to think more. She actually felt overwhelmingly relieved to finally have the answer to her sudden time jump to the past. Everything made so much more sense now that the puzzle pieces were all on the table. She actually felt a little silly for not recognizing all the little signs and figuring it out sooner. There had been so many hints and clues along the way!

“So… that definitely explains why my Veela recognized you. You are actually 19...” Fleur chuckled awkwardly, when she first regained the use of her tongue, trying to lighten the mood. 

“I’m so sorry, Fleur… I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was just trying to send myself back. I didn’t know you’d get sucked in, too!”

“I’ll admit that it was a surprise to wake up as my 17-year old self, but at least now I know how it happened. I suppose all things considered, maybe this was the best possible outcome.” 

“You’re not mad?”

“Shocked? Yes. Mad? Not at all. It was clearly a mistake and you didn’t mean to bring me back. But now that I’m here with you, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It brought us together and gave us the opportunity to rewrite the future and save the world. Really, what is there to be mad about?”

“Well, you’re stuck being 18 again.”

“That… was a little white lie. I’m still physically 17 until May 17th.”

“But you said…”

“Non. If you recall, I said I turned 18 a while ago… a while being three years.”

“Sneaky. But seriously, you aren’t upset?”

“About what? Aside from a few minor inconveniences, there hasn’t really been a downside to the situation in my opinion. So I have to relive the Tournament and keep my real identity secret… Big deal. Considering what is at stake, I’d pay that price a thousand times over. Besides, I am part-Veela. I am no stranger to hiding who I really am and holding secret knowledge. And frankly, I am kicking ass in the Tournament this time around _and_ I got a miniature dragon. So really, this was the biggest second chance in the history of second chances.”

Hermione sighed, her usually bright brown gaze was still shrouded by uncertainty. “I feel so guilty for dragging you into this!”

Fleur reached over and rested her hand on Hermione’s thigh. “Please don’t carry the weight of guilt, ma belle. Not about this. And especially not for my sake. You’ve been carrying the weight of the future on your shoulders, you don’t need to burden yourself further. And at least you didn’t send me back alone to have to deal with petty teenage idiocy. Now we can share our horror stories of listening to them drone on about inconsequential drama.”

Hermione chuckled awkwardly “Yeah… it’s fascinating how simple things were back then. So much drama and immaturity! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to scream at my roommates because it doesn’t matter that their lipstick is salmon pink or bubble gum pink! Pink is pink!”

“Ah, but _that_ is a very important distinction, Mademoiselle Granger.” Fleur teased softly.

“Hush you... But really, everything seems so trivial compared to what is to come. But now that we know we’re both from the future, we can work together and combine our efforts. If you want to, of course.”

“Well, it is as I said before. Bonded or not, we will always be stronger together.” Fleur smiled softly and held her arm out, offering Hermione a space to snuggle against her, which the smaller witch immediately took advantage of, wrapping her slender arms around the older witch. 

Fleur held Hermione close, relishing the feeling of their bodies melding together. The embrace was originally intended to offer the younger witch comfort and reassurance, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying it, too. Her Veela was crooning, content to finally have her mate next to her like this. Despite everything, she felt completely at ease. She leaned back slightly, supporting their weight on her free arm, outstretched straight behind her. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against the side of Hermione’s head, humming softly. 

They sat there in companionable silence for a moment before Hermione spoke again.

“I know it’s a lot to ask… but do you think one day you could forgive me?”

Fleur sighed internally, it seemed that Hermione hadn’t stopped feeling guilty yet. Rather than chastise her for not letting it go, she did her best to reassure her and reaffirm that her actions were the right move. 

“Forgive you? For what? For doing what you had to in order to try to stop what was quickly becoming a global catastrophe? For risking it all to save your friends and loved ones? For giving us the chance to be together? ‘Ermione, ma belle, I should be _thanking_ you. I felt so lost in the future! I was trying to help but I didn’t know what to do to fix things. _You_ found a solution.”

She felt Hermione sob quietly against her shoulder, but she could tell they were tears of relief as she let go of her fear and doubt about Fleur’s reaction.

“My only sadness is that you thought you had to carry this burden alone for so long. You are so strong, ma belle. You are such a brave and amazing witch, both in this timeline and the one we left. You were willing to sacrifice yourself to try to change the course of history and therefore alter the future.”

Hermione clutched at Fleur’s sweater, nuzzling her face against the Veela’s neck, seeking comfort in her warmth and her scent. That amazing blend of lavender, vanilla, and grass.

“I think you and I both know that our presence in this timeline is already causing changes. So many things are very different from what I remember from the first time around. And I don’t know what effect these changes will have in the new future, but I believe that we can work through anything when the time comes. Together.”

“Together…” Hermione nodded and looked up, her hot breath tickled Fleur’s neck, making her shiver. The brunette leaned back to regard Fleur. “Are you cold?”

Fleur shook her head softly, enjoying the soft brown curls against her skin, drinking in Hermione’s scent. She smelled like parchment, ink, peppermints, and honeysuckle. “Non, I could never be cold when I’m with you. Are you?”

“No, I’m alright. The blanket is warm and so are you. You are surprisingly comfortable.”

“Why thank you. You may use me as a pillow any time you please. I warn you, if you do, Gabrielle will probably give you shit. So will Evangeline. But they mean well. They both like you and were sad that we stopped hanging out together. I think that Evangeline suspects you are my one.”

“How? I didn’t even know.”

“Well first, as you know Evangeline is part-Veela so of course she knows our lore. Also, Veela tend to be hopeless romantics, hoping to find their mate and keeping an eye out for the signs. What you did for me after the First Task… For my Veela to see you and calm down enough for me to transform back… That doesn’t just happen for no reason.”

“I was wondering about that. Evangeline told me it was because you trust me.”

“That is true, I do trust you without a shadow of a doubt. And now you know the significance of our situation. But again, unless we actually tell them, they’ll probably just assume we are dating. I mean, if you want to date… I mean… we can just… I mean, I don’t know if you like me like that… I guess we never really got around to talking about actual feelings, did we? Not really at least… I mean, you did try to kiss me, but…” Fleur stammered, her confidence disappeared and she was suddenly wondering about Hermione’s feelings toward her. They had talked about the mate connection and what it meant for her, but she really wasn’t sure of Hermione’s feelings back. _Had they changed since then the Yule Ball?_ She didn’t want to assume.

“Fleur, you’re so oblivious! Of course I like you! I’ve had a damn crush on you pretty much since the day I got back to this blasted timeline! 

“Then why were you so mean towards me when we first arrived?” Fleur pouted.

“Because you were being a right cocky git!”

“I suppose you’re right. I know that I was a bit arrogant and insufferable when I was actually 17. I was just trying to uphold that image because my classmates expected me to act a certain way, I couldn’t suddenly change and be a different person. That would have raised some questions.”

“Oh, I get it… everyone thinks that I’m a know-it-all bookworm. Which is true, so that part wasn’t hard to fake. But hiding my power was so hard, I didn’t want to reveal too much. By the way, you played your part well, I didn’t suspect you.” 

“So you’re saying I am good at being an arsehole? Thanks.” Fleur’s voice was dripping sarcasm.

Hermione laughed softly at the ridiculousness of how blatantly oblivious they had been around each other. “Also I was annoyed at you for distracting me from my mission. Do you know how hard it is to keep focused on coming up with plans to deal with Voldemort when you’re floating around looking perfect and amazing? Well, I’ll have you know that it was fucking bloody torture!”

Fleur laughed and tilted her head to kiss Hermione’s temple. “I am truly sorry for causing you pain, even unintentionally. It’s not been a cakewalk for me either. Denying my Veela instincts to be around you all the time… She was screaming at me nonstop for the past two months. Oh, she says ‘hello,’ by the way and she is very happy that we are finally talking again.”

Hermione furrowed her brow but waved awkwardly and said hello back. “What’s it like, being with your Veela?”

“She exists in my mind and spirit. She is a part of me but also is her own separate entity. Usually she is quiet, just watching the world through my eyes. Sometimes she gets rather opinionated and makes it well known. It used to be much worse when I was younger. I would get the worst headaches trying to keep everything straight between our thoughts. I spent a lot of time denying my Veela because I despised the way people treated me, which frustrated her and made it worse for us both. It wasn’t until I was 19 that I fully accepted her and we finally synced up. Now we exist in a state of harmony with one another. When she is active… It’s difficult to describe. It’s like the tide, a push and pull of our thoughts moving together. Sometimes she’s like a voice in my head, like if your conscience could speak and you could respond. Sometimes it’s not words and just instincts or strong feelings. In very rare cases, like the First Task, she will take over control for our survival.”

“That is absolutely fascinating…” Hermione grinned, tilting her head when she saw Fleur staring at her very intently. “What’s wrong?”

“I just… All this time I kept imagining you as the amazing witch you were going to become in the future. And now I know you’ve been here all along. You hid it well. I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t really suspect anything.”

“Thank you, good to know I have a career in pretending to be a 15 year old student.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “The permanent student and the royal arsehole, who would have thought? We could make a traveling show.”

Fleur returned the gesture “I know that a lot has happened since we saw each other at Tonks and Remus’s wedding last year and I know that we’ve both changed since then. But if you’ll let me, I’d like to get to know you again. The real you. I still can’t believe you’re here and I’m here and we’re talking like this.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit bonkers, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely bonkers.” Fleur repeated and rubbed her hand along Hermione’s arm.

“Hey, Fleur?”

“Oui, ma belle?”

“Now that you know I’m mentally 19 but only physically 15, am I still going to have to wait three years to ask me on a date?” 

Fleur snorted softly “You would like to go on a date with me? Because I would like that very much.”

“Well, I asked you to the Ball, I think it’s only fair to say it’s your turn to do the asking.”

Fleur nuzzled her cheek against Hermione’s head “Why, Mademoiselle ‘Ermione Granger, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

“Now you just sound like you’re proposing or something.” 

“That was not an answer.”

“Of course I’ll go on a date with you, you stubborn Veela!” 

“Oh, now you’ve done it… after everything we’ve talked about, calling me a stubborn Veela went over the line! My honor must be defended!” Fleur suddenly sat up suddenly and tackled Hermione to the blanket, tickling her.

The Gryffindor squealed and laughed, trying in vain to squirm away. Fleur was deceptively strong due to all of her training for the Second Task.

The blonde relented after a few seconds and the two women sat back up, breathing heavily through the waves of laughter.

“So, when you woke up in this timeline, what was the first thing you did?” Hermione leaned back though not fully laying down, propped up on her elbows.

Fleur mirrored the position next to her, grinning broadly “Grabbed my breasts.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and gave the blonde an unamused look “Really, Fleur? Of all the things in the world you did that?”

Fleur chuckled unapologetically “What? I had to check! I’m Veela. And I’m French! And they’re very nice, for the record. In case you were wondering.” She winked slyly at the Gryffindor. “Why what did you do?”

Hermione blushed a little at Fleur’s comment about her breasts. “I checked my magical ability of course!”

Fleur paused for a second, realizing how ridiculous her reaction was compared to Hermione’s. “Yeah, I’m not surprised by that.” 

Hermione playfully swatted Fleur’s arm “Be nice. I’m nothing if not practical.”

“Ah, ma belle, you are so much more than that.” Fleur reclined all the way back, folding her hands behind her head like a pillow, staring up at the cloudy sky.

The two witches were quiet for a few minutes before Fleur spoke again.

“So, how did you do it? How did you come back?”

“A Time Turner that I found. Well, rather it was given to me by Dumbledore’s phoenix familiar. At least, I thought it was a Time Turner. It certainly looked like one, but it has strange markings along the rings. I thought nothing of it at first but as you can see there was something special about it because this isn’t like usual Time Turner travel.”

“You’ve used a Time Turner before?” Fleur turned her neck to look curiously up at her mate. Time Turners were extremely rare and heavily regulated magical artifacts. How could Hermione have gotten her hands on one not once but twice? “What was it supposed to be like?”

“Uh, yes… in my third year, I used a Time Turner to attend extra classes.” Hermione rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Basically, you’re in two places simultaneously. The ‘old you’ is on a set path doing what you originally were doing before you traveled back. The ‘new you’ which is actually your ‘current you’ can do whatever you want. But ‘new you’ has to avoid the ‘old you.’ It gets very tricky, especially if you run into yourself or someone who saw ‘old you’ somewhere else recently.”

“What happens when time catches up?”

“Your ‘old you’ just ceases to exist at the point that you made the time jump, so it’s best to do so somewhere secluded so no one sees you randomly disappear into thin air.”

Fleur shook her head “This seems very complicated.”

“It’s rather fortunate that it turned out this way for us, actually. It would have been so complicated to try to avoid the ‘old’ version of ourselves for this long… But in this case it seems like whatever magic was in the Time Turner I used just deposited us in our ‘old’ versions of ourselves… which are actually our younger selves.”

“It is fortunate indeed because I don’t think the world can handle the amazingness of two Fleur Delacours at the same time.”

“You cocky git.”

Fleur just laughed and rolled onto her side to face Hermione, her head propped up on an elbow. Her free hand moved to the space between them, resting on the blanket for Hermione to take if she wanted. “You know, I’m not sure what I am more shocked about, that you would use a Time Turner to do something so trivial as attend class or that someone allowed it!”

“I’ll admit I was a little naive back then.” Hermione laughed and moved her hand to touch Fleur’s, their fingertips barely brushing together. Like two shy butterflies dancing around one another, neither willing to go the full distance.

“That is not the word I would use to describe it. So, why did you bring us back to this year? I’m sure you had a more specific reason other than ‘save the world.’ Did you want to fix the Tournament or something?”

“I actually meant to go back four months to before the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“So not only was the Time Turner with mysterious markings faulty and messed with our bodies and minds, but it also sent us to the entirely wrong time?”

“Maybe? I mean, I thought I knew what I was doing and I adjusted the knobs based on what seemed right and turned it four times…”

Fleur’s Veela flared up at the thought of Hermione endangering herself so recklessly and spoke before she could stop herself “Okay… so I amend my previous statement… I _am_ mad at you! I’m mad at you for being so reckless and careless with your life. Putting yourself in unknown danger! We got lucky but what if something really bad had happened instead?”

Hermione blushed with embarrassment and looked away, quickly retracting her hand. “In retrospect, it was rather foolish. But you know what it’s like in the future. Just _existing_ was dangerous and I was just so desperate. And yes, it definitely could have been worse.”

“I’m so sorry, ‘Ermione… that was my Veela, she doesn’t like the idea of you being in danger. Neither do I but she tends to be more passionate with her responses…” Fleur apologized quickly when she saw the young witch’s reaction to the outburst. She took a few deep breaths to calm the voice in her head “I know that what the situation was and I don’t blame you one bit for looking for any solution… if it were me, I don’t know if I would have had the ‘‘Ermione Granger courage’ to do that. But will you promise me no more time jumps?”

Hermione nodded, looking slightly confused at seeing both sides of Fleur flip-flop so quickly but she recovered with a soft smile, reaching over to put her hand on Fleur’s arm. “And risk what we have now? Not a chance.” 

Fleur purred happily, her eyes slipped shut as she enjoyed the feel of Hermione tracing small, soothing swirls on her arm. “I like that you are affectionate by the way. Veela are creatures of love and we show our feelings through physical touches. It is not uncommon for us to hold hands with friends or embrace or cuddle or give sweet kisses on the cheeks. I hope you do not mind, but I would like to do all of that with you.”

“I do not mind at all.” Hermione grinned and leaned over to kiss Fleur’s forehead, causing the blonde to hum contentedly. “Well, since we’re putting everything out there, are there any other secrets I should know about the mysterious Fleur Delacour?”

Fleur turned bright red “Uh, yeah, there’s one more little thing you should know about me. Well… I mean, it’s not exactly _little_ …” She waved her hand and dispelled her concealment charm.

“Oh… that’s… not what I was expecting.” Hermione’s eyes widened when she saw the bulge in the front of Fleur’s jeans.

The Veela nodded and waved her hand, returning the illusion “I’m sorry if that bothers you. I can’t help it, it’s an alpha Veela thing. Our bodies can change to be, um, compatible with our mate… for procreational needs. Again, you have made no choice and do not have to accept me as your mate if it does. I would understand if you didn’t…” she faltered, the thought of Hermione being repulsed by her dug deep at her heart.

Hermione stopped Fleur from spiraling by placing the tip of her finger against Fleur’s lips “Shh… It’s fine. It’s a part of you. And I accept that. It makes you unique, even more than you already are.”

“You are truly amazing, ma belle.” 

“I know and so are you. I’m glad we found each other. It’s as you said at the Ball. That if it was meant to be, we would find each other again when the time was right. It just took us a four year time jump to find one another. I don’t know about you, but I think that’s a pretty clear message.”

Fleur chuckled “That I did and that it is.” She rolled over onto her back and held her arm out, inviting Hermione to lay down next to her. Once the brunette was comfortable with her head resting on her chest, she wrapped her arms around the lithe frame, cradling her protectively. 

“I have to admit, Fleur… when I asked you to come here, this is not at all how I imagined the day to turn out. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Me, too, ma belle. Me, too.” Fleur agreed and closed her eyes, feeling content and safe, listening to her mate’s steady breathing, lulling her to sleep. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione slept soundly against Fleur but eventually the grumbling in her stomach roused her from her nap. Her eyes fluttered open slowly as she came to. She stiffened for a second, forgetting her surroundings, but relaxed when she felt Fleur’s warm body stir beneath her. The Veela’s scent wrapped around her like a blanket, soothing her and easing her mind. She felt safe. Safer than she had in years. It was sad but she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this comfortable.

She lay there for a moment longer, reluctant to move. She smiled to herself as she felt herself rise and fall steadily with Fleur’s breathing. This was definitely not at all how she had thought her day was going to go but she had zero complaints about the way things turned out. Then her stomach rumbled again. _Well, maybe one complaint._

“Mmm… if your stomach continues like that I think the Centaurs will come looking for the source of the earthquake.” Fleur’s voice was soft, though deeper and a little scratchy from sleep.

“It’s not _that_ bad.” Hermione rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless. She twisted her neck to look at the sky “Looks like we’ve been out here a while.”

“Oui, a couple of hours. We should get back. Besides, I need to make sure you get fed.”

Hermione nodded and sat up, taking a moment to gaze down at the blonde Veela on the blanket, who was smiling like this was the best moment of her life. “What?”

“Nothing, you just make me so happy. I still can’t believe it. You knowing about our bond. Knowing we’re both from the future… it’s just, I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I mean we still have quite a task ahead of us. But it doesn’t feel quite as daunting with the thought of you by my side.”

Hermione nodded as she rose to her feet. She stretched her arms high over her head, fingers interlocked, then bent backwards and then side to side. She released her stretch with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, we were carrying around some heavy secrets.”

Fleur got to her feet while Hermione was stretching and did some stretches of her own. She bent forward, touching her toes to stretch her back “Mm… maybe next time we nap out in the woods we bring a mattress. Or find a patch of grass.”

“Probably a good idea. You do make a good mattress though.”

“Good. And I said you were always welcome to use me as such, I do not mind, I quite enjoyed it, actually. Even for a nap, that was some of the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.”

Hermione nodded “Same. I don’t sleep well anymore. I have nightmares. Not as bad now, but they’re still horrible when they do happen. Sometimes when I’m walking through the halls I get flashbacks… seeing what Hogwarts looks like in the future, everything on fire and so many of the students here… what becomes of them…”

Fleur clenched her jaw, her heart aching at the pain her mate was in. She didn’t know what had transpired at the Battle of Hogwarts. She had been in London on a different mission at the time. She wanted to support her mate but didn’t know what would make Hermione feel better. She knew everyone dealt with trauma differently. “What do you need?”

Hermione shook her head quickly as if trying to reset her train of thought. She grabbed her left forearm and squeezed it hard, even though the scar was gone. “I think I just need to say it and for you to listen. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this.”

Fleur nodded, folding up the blanket and shrinking it down to pocket size. “Why don’t you tell me as we walk back?”

Hermione agreed and started to tell her side of the story from the moment that she, Ron, and Harry escaped from Tonks and Remus’s wedding.

“After the Battle of Hogwarts I went on the run again. I felt like a coward for not staying to help, but I knew it was lost. I knew the Death Eaters would come looking for me and I was no good to anyone if I was dead. I spent four months bouncing around, trying to figure out a plan. That’s when I came back to Hogwarts. And I guess then is now.”

Fleur shook her head softly as she processed everything that Hermione had just described to her. “I can’t believe that was your life for so long. I promise you, whatever I can do to keep that future from coming to pass, I shall do it. I can’t even think about what that Lestrange woman did to you.” Her eyes glowed red and she clenched her fists, nostrils flared in anger.

“It’s okay, Fleur… she’s not here.” Hermione instantly recognized the signs of Fleur and her Veela getting pissed off. “What happened has already happened and all we can do is try to keep it from happening again.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Just the thought of someone harming you…” Fleur hugged her quickly for reassurance and then released her. 

“Well, that’s what we’re working towards. So no one else needs to experience such trauma. Like I said, I still have flare ups of my PTSD but being around you helps a lot.”

“Then you shall have me. However you need. I find comfort in your presence as well, it soothes me, knowing you are close. Safe.”

Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, “Wow, I didn’t realize how badly I needed to get that off my chest. I just hope that I can fully move forward one day. Thank you for being such a good listener.” She offered a half-smile.

“You will. You have deep scars, but even scars fade over time.” Fleur nodded and continued walking quietly for a few minutes “So, it seems that you have a lot of information about these Horcruxes and I have information about the Death Eaters and what they were up to. The Order was tracking movements of known or suspected Death Eaters, so if you know of any in particular, I might be able to help there.”

Hermione nodded “Right… and I can fill you in on what I’ve done so far and we can start planning tomorrow. Today I just want it to be us.”

Fleur smiled broadly “If that is your wish, ma belle. May I hold your hand?” 

Hermione laughed and held her hand out “I thought you’d never ask.”

Fleur took hold and intertwined their fingers. They walked along, their arms swinging gently in time with their steps “Are you worried about what the others might say or think? Ron was not kind at the Ball.”

“Let them talk.” Hermione shrugged “I’m not going to waste a second of my newfound time with you worrying about small-minded prats. If you are comfortable with being open about it, then I am, too. I’m not going to hide anymore. I’ve spent too much time hiding and running. I'm not ashamed to be who I am.”

“I am glad to hear that because I am very proud to be with you.“

“What about you, are you nervous of any rumors?”

Fleur giggled “‘Ermione, I am a Veela, rumors come with the territory. I have long since learned not to care what other people think of me. As long as I have you and my family and you are all safe, then I am content.”

“What about whoever submitted the idea of using me as your hostage? The one you think might suspect us being mates and all?” Hermione looked up at the Champion.

Fleur sighed “Hmm, that is still worrisome to me. I suspect fake-Moody but I cannot confirm anything… it is just a hunch.”

Hermione beamed “Oh, then you will love what I have to tell you then…”

Dumbledore was standing by the beach when Fleur and Hermione walked back, hand in hand. He regarded the two women with a slightly amused look, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, good, you two are talking again. I must admit, it took a little longer than I expected, but I suppose all good things are worth waiting for.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled brightly. “And it seems you two have come to an understanding about your current situation?”

“Professor?” Hermione furrowed her brow. _Was Dumbledore referring to the time jump or their mate status?_

“Ah, Miss Granger. You think that I wouldn’t recognize the magical signature of one of my own inventions? By the way, did you by chance save Fawkes’ ashes so I can give him a proper send off?” 

“Oh, yeah, I did, actually. I can give them to you later.” 

Dumbledore nodded sadly, “He was such a faithful companion to the end. Since you were able to obtain the _Tempus Novus_ from him, that means that I am soon to be dead and the future is bleak indeed.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Hermione raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“I left instruction with Fawkes to only relinquish the _Tempus Novus_ when he thought there was no hope left and only to one who truly wished to bring light back to the dark.”

Hermione stared noncommittally and Fleur did a combination of shrugging and nodding.

“You are both guarding your knowledge of the future, that is good. Very important for the times ahead of us.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Dumbledore raised his hand to cut her off quickly.

“Before you speak, Miss Granger, I do not wish to know specific details beyond the bare minimum. The more people who know of what is to come, the higher likelihood for things going sideways along the way. Too many variables. While I would like to reassure you both that you can trust me without a doubt, all aspects of my life are constantly under surveillance and scrutiny. My movements, routines, even my mind. Thank Merlin that I’m a master at Occlumency and Legilimency, but as my mind ages, it has become weaker and is not quite the impervious trap it once was. It is not worth the risk of the wrong people finding out. 

“Therefore I think that it would be best for everyone if you two can continue to operate under the radar and without my interference. I’m sorry, but the future is firmly in your hands. I will support how I can but this is something you two must do alone.”

“How, sir? We have so little time left after juggling classes, homework, the Tournament and upholding our appearances for others…” 

“Ah, right you are! Thank you for reminding me. Were you not curious as to why I suddenly changed your schedule mid-year, Miss Granger?”

“Of course I was, but I just figured it was because you thought that I am smart enough to handle the load…” Hermione looked sheepishly at her feet.

“Well, you certainly are intelligent indeed, seemingly well beyond your years if I may be so bold to say,” He chuckled at his little time travel joke “Did you not notice that your class schedule is a perfect match to Miss Delacour’s?”

“I did notice that.”

“Good… So for the remainder of the year, you are hereby excused from your History of Magic and Ancient Runes classes for a private tutoring period.”

“What! Tutoring?” Both women shrieked, appalled that he would suggest they needed tutoring.

“You misunderstand. I believe if I recall correctly, that frees up your Tuesday and Thursday afternoons?”

They both nodded, wide grins quickly spreading their faces as they realized what he intended.

“Very good,” he clapped his hands twice, “Now your schedules have now been changed to reflect your private study sessions. You should use the time to work together to formulate whatever plans or preparations that you need. I might also suggest delving into Occlumency and Legilimency yourselves. You have so much precious information in those minds of yours. We wouldn’t want the wrong people to go poking around willy nilly now, would we?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled again as he waved his hand “And here is an all access pass to the library, including the Restricted Section.”

It took all of her self control not to snatch the parchment out of Dumbledore’s slender fingers, but Hermione managed to take the note from him at a normal speed. “Thank you, sir.”

Dumbledore shook his head softly “Out of morbid curiosity, if I may ask, how many turns?”

“Four.” Hermione responded quickly.

“Do you remember the quotes?”

“Of course, sir.” She took a breath and recited Dumbledore’s quotes when she spun the _Tempus Novus_ all those months ago.

‘ _Mysterious thing, Time. Powerful, and when meddled with, dangerous._ ’

‘ _It is important to fight and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then can evil be kept at bay though never quite eradicated.’_

_‘Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right.’_

‘ _Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.’_

“Hmm… in my not so humble opinion, I sometimes amaze myself. I couldn’t have planned that better if I tried.”

“Sir?”

“When you first heard those words of wisdom back when you were back in school, they must have seemed rather out of context and random. But together, they leave a very powerful message, don’t you think?”

“Sir, are you suggesting that you were leaving us a sort of prophecy?”

“A prophecy. A warning. An old man’s senseless ramblings. You decide. I think you and I both know that one cannot deny how remarkably accurately they describe your situation.” Dumbledore smiled again, that knowing twinkle in his eye. He didn’t wait for them to respond before continuing his talk. “It seems that spending my afternoon tea time with Sybil really paid off. I should continue I think… She is good company. And I find myself rather fond of Oolong. I should give her another raise.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows doubtfully, still reluctant to believe there was any truth to be found in the ‘noble art of Divination.’

“I know you have your doubts, Miss Granger. Just because a prophecy does not take the form of a long winded riddle or live on the shelves of the Department of Mysteries does not make it any less meaningful. It seems that all four of those have come to pass or are very soon to pass. Am I correct?” His watery blues shifted between them, fixing them with a knowing look. 

Both women sputtered, unsure of how to respond when he implied that he was aware of their bond.

“Rest assured, your secret is safe with me. Besides, since nothing has been confirmed to me, this is a mere rumor. And we all know how much trust we can put in rumors.”

“Yes, that is true.” Hermione nodded appreciatively. 

“Pardon me, Sir, but ‘ow ees eet zat you you seem to know so much about ze Veela customs?” Fleur finally spoke, looking suspiciously at the aged wizard, who was stroking his long white beard thoughtfully.

“Ah, Miss Delacour, you needn’t hide your lack of accent around me.”

Fleur sputtered again “How did you know about my accent?”

“I am the Headmaster here” Dumbledore replied simply “There is very little that goes on within my walls and on these grounds that I am not aware of. But getting back to your original question. Do you know a certain Adeline Delacour?”

“Oui, she is my grandmother.”

“Ah, I suspected as much. The resemblance between you two is uncanny. I first met Adeline back in 1940, five years before my famous duel with my old friend Grindelwald. She is a remarkable woman, is she not?”

Fleur simply nodded.

“Well, she and I became friends over the years. We helped each other out on a number of occasions as our paths crossed throughout the years. Eventually she let me in on a few Veela secrets. Nothing of real consequence, of course.”

Fleur’s eyes went wide as she listened. Her grandmother had never mentioned knowing Dumbledore, let alone trusting him enough to tell him Veela secrets. 

Dumbledore continued “But then I saw the way that your magical auras were interacting at the School Arrival Feast… Since then I have had my suspicions that you two will play a very meaningful role in each other’s lives. Did you not wonder why you were Miss Delacour’s treasure yesterday, Miss Granger?”

“I did… We hoped that it was because the four Champions were just paired with their Yule Ball dates and we were worried that someone suspected otherwise.”

“It was my doing to suggest you as Miss Delacour’s treasure, not her sister as Maxime suggested. Of course, one could easily argue the reasoning was the one that you suggested, Miss Granger. It is also true that the Champions were each paired with their Ball date. It was an easy way to give you two a little nudge in the right direction while allaying suspicions from prying eyes.” Dumbledore smiled warmly at the young pair. “It is such an encouraging thing to see, love standing against all the odds. You two certainly have had quite the journey to find one another.”

Hermione smiled warmly and squeezed Fleur’s hand.

“Alas, it seems that our time here is coming to an end. I know the fate of the world is a heavy burden, but you have been given a precious gift. Do not waste what time you have… so much depends on you.”

“Thank you, Headmaster… we will not fail.

“I hope not. While I am not afraid of death, I would like to put it off as long as possible. I still have not finished my collection of Chocolate Frog trading cards. I cannot seem to get the gilded Morgana collector edition.” Dumbledore’s eyes shifted, drawing attention to a figure approaching the beach.

“Remember, help comes to us in a variety of forms. It is up to us to be willing to ask and to recognize those moments it is given. Do not let the opportunities pass you by. Trust one another and I think you will both find that you have much to learn from one another. Good day to you both.” He turned on his heel and strode off, leaving Fleur and Hermione standing in shocked silence to mull over what had just happened. 

Hermione was quiet as she was mulling over everything the Headmaster had said to them. _Had Dumbledore somehow orchestrated this entire thing? That man was too sneaky for his own good._

“Well, that was certainly unexpected.” Fleur chuckled as she watched the aged wizard move away. He had a surprisingly light gait for one so old.

The color drained from Hermione’s face as a very unpleasant thought crossed her mind “Fleur… If I brought you back, do you think it is possible that we weren’t the only ones to return to 1994?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally get to use my Dumbledore you sneaky bastard tag!! When I added at the beginning and had no idea how I was gonna make that work, lol, but I think it turned out pretty well :-) 
> 
> Tempus Novus means ‘New Time’ in Latin.
> 
> Also, I meant to post this when Dumbledore gave Hermione her schedule, but it seems that I got so excited with everything else that I forgot… Anyway, here is their schedule that I’ve been using throughout the story.  
> Fleurmione’s class schedule:  
> M, W = Potions 3 hrs AM, Charms 1 hr PM, DADA 1 hr PM  
> T, TH = Transfiguration 1 hr AM, Herbology 1 hr AM, Ancient Runes PM, History of Magic PM  
> F = CharmsAM/DADA PM and Transfigurations AM/Herbology PM practicals, 3 hours each. Alternating weeks


	20. Chapter 20

Rita Skeeter huffed as she entered the Three Broomsticks for their scheduled evening check in. Her sharp eyes scanned the mostly empty bar, zeroing in on an unremarkable witch sitting alone at a table in the back corner. The witch was sipping on a glass of something, an untouched drink sitting opposite of her as if she were expecting company. The drink looked to be a fruity concoction and had a bright pink cocktail umbrella resting on the rim. That was the sign she was looking for.

“Ah, there you are.” She grumbled quietly to herself and closed the door behind her as she walked in fully. 

Hermione was sitting in a secluded corner of the Three Broomsticks with a mug of butterbeer. She had illusioned herself to take on the appearance of an unassuming, exceptionally ordinary, mousy-looking middle-aged witch. Nothing about her appearance stood out and the other patrons in the bar just ignored her or passed by without a second glance. It was perfect.

She heard the door chimes tinkling as someone new entered and she looked up to see who it was. She rolled her eyes when she saw Rita enter, her chin tilted high into the air in a haughty manner as she made her way through the bar.

In their early meetings, it became clear that the snooty reporter did not like coming here and made her displeasure known, stating that places like this were beneath her. Hermione had reminded her that enduring 20 minutes in the pub was worth avoiding a trip to Azkaban and the unregistered Animagus showed up every third day at 7 without fail.

Rita had also adopted a disguise for the evening. Unlike Hermione, she did not alter her physical appearance, just changed her clothes into something unexpected. She was wearing a drab set of baggy grey robes, which was a stark contrast from her normally vibrant green tailored suits. A cream colored shawl hung around her shoulders and was wrapped over her hair and partially concealed her mouth. She had darkened the lenses of her horn-rimmed glasses to conceal her eyes. 

“Miss Skeeter, you look lovely this evening, did you do something with your hair?” Hermione taunted the other witch. She cast a quick silencing spell with her hand, disguised by the motion of pushing the drink to the other woman. Fleur had been teaching her how to do some wandless magic to go along with her nonverbal spellcasting. Both skills were incredibly useful to have, especially when one was trying to be inconspicuous. 

“Stop patronizing me. This is necessary! It’s bad enough that a 12 year old girl got the better of me! What would people think if they knew I was coming here regularly, too? They would think I’m just a shady barfly!” The blonde replied stiffly, pointedly ignoring the offered drink.

This is how all of their meetings started, with a quick snitty exchange. Hermione just rolled her eyes at the older woman. She found it ironic that one who made a career out of besmirching the reputations of others would be so concerned with her maintaining her own. But after a month of meeting with the bleached-blonde, she knew to let the other woman vent her frustration for exactly 45 seconds. Then they would get on with the meeting.

“Any update?” Hermione casually sipped her drink.

“He does a lot of pacing…”

Hermione raised an eyebrow, daring the older witch to try her patience. 

“Fine. Each night at exactly 10:15, he sits at his desk and takes off his metal leg. Then he checks his face in the looking glass on his desk for an exceptionally long time, at least 30 minutes a night. Whatever he’s doing it’s clearly not helping because the man is still hideous. All those scars! Took one too many hexes to the face if you ask me. And that eye!”

“Focus, Skeeter.” Hermione warned and took casual sip of her butterbeer.

"After that he drinks far too much from his flask and goes to bed. That man really has a drinking problem! Honestly, drinking yourself into a stupor each night!” The reporter finished her critique of what she perceived as a case of alcoholism.

Hermione chuckled internally. She knew that it was Polyjuice Potion, not alcohol that was being consumed. But she didn’t tell that to Skeeter. 

“So a normal few days then?”

“I wouldn’t say that…” The Animagus curled her lips into a smug smirk.

Hermione fixed her with an unamused stare, pursing her lips as she waited for the reporter to get over being pleased with herself and finish giving her the information.

“Last night he was doing his normal evening routine. While he was inspecting his face, I heard him start mumbling into the looking glass, so I tried to get in closer for a better look. At first I thought he was just talking to himself. And then I heard a voice coming out of the mirror…”

Hermione sat forward, her interest piqued. “And?”

“It was hard to hear from my spot. I couldn’t get closer without revealing my presence so I couldn’t make out the full conversation.” Skeeter shuddered at the memory “There was something about the other voice. It was weak and raspy but somehow it still sounded dangerous… it chilled me to the bone.” 

“That’s fine, something is better than nothing. Now tell me what was said!” Hermione huffed, getting increasingly impatient, eager to finally have some news.

“I heard something about a Portkey, graveyard, gathering the faithful after the resurrection, and bringing the sacrifice. What have you dragged me into, Miss Granger?”

“Ah, ah, ah… no questions asked, remember?”

“Fine…” Skeeter glared at her for a moment before a sly smirk spread across her lips “So I’ve been considering my little situation. I’ve done everything you’ve asked so far and I think there should be a little more give and take, so to speak. Aside from not being sent to Azkaban, surely there is something you can offer me in return for my unwavering services?” Rita crossed her arms over her chest.

“My dear woman, this is not the time for negotiations. However, I promise you that if all goes according to plan, you will find yourself waist deep in the biggest story to hit the shelves this decade.”

The blonde looked extremely pleased by that, her lips curling up in a devilish grin, already wondering what juicy gossip she was going to get out of the bargain. “Anything else?”

“No, that is all for now. Thank you.”

With a huff, Skeeter rose from her seat and all but ran out of the bar. 

Hermione sat back and finished her drink before grabbing the extra one. No point in letting it go to waste, after all. She had a lot to think about. While Rita’s information wasn’t complete, the beetle had heard enough to confirm that the Death Eaters were going along with the same plan they had from the original timeline. She had suspected it would be similar this time around, there were only so many resurrection spells after all, but she had to be sure. It wasn’t worth taking a chance on assuming and being wrong. Now that they had confirmation, everything else would fall into place.

Hermione could see very few options and none seemed particularly good to her. She needed to talk to Fleur soon and planned to do so the next evening. 

The next evening, Hermione and Fleur were in the Room of Requirement together, quietly enjoying each other's company and taking care of a few small tasks. Hermione had wanted to keep it casual so she could ease Fleur into what she was about to propose.

As time progressed, it had become harder and harder for them to meet like this. Between juggling classes and homework, helping Harry prepare for the Tournament, hanging out with friends to maintain the expectations others had of their younger selves, building their actual relationship, Fleur’s scheduled Tournament practice, preparing for the actual crisis at hand, and dealing with the random things that came up last minute, their free time together was very limited. Most days they didn’t see each other outside of mealtimes and class and had to use their enchanted marbles to say good night, whispering sweet nothings as they fell asleep. 

At least they had their ‘tutoring sessions’ to work on preparing for the Third Task and all that entailed, so things were making slow and steady progress on that front. They had been working primarily on two-person projects, like improving their dueling and practicing their Occlumency and Legilimency skills as Dumbledore had suggested. The rest could be done more or less individually whenever time allowed. Though having company always made things better.

Fleur was sitting at the table writing a letter to her family requesting assistance in the acquisition of a few rare herbs for Hermione’s side projects. Hermione was sitting on the side adjacent to her, their knees touching under the table, quietly reading a book on potions, researching brewing theory. She had actually stopped reading several minutes earlier as she tried to think of the best way to bring up her idea for the Third Task. 

Deciding it was best to go for it, she sighed and set her book down. “Fleur… can we talk for a moment?”

Fleur hummed and looked up from her letter. She furrowed her brow in concern when she saw Hermione worrying at her lip, her soft brown eyes were shifting nervously “Oui, ma belle.”

“You’re not going to like what I have to say. Can you try to keep an open mind about it?”

“Of course, ma belle.” Fleur put her quill in the inkwell and folded her hands together, resting them on the table in front of her, giving Hermione her full attention.

“As much as I hate to say it, I think we need to let things play out. That we allow Voldemort to rise again on June 24.”

 _“WHAT?_ ” Fleur screeched loudly “Wasn’t the point of us coming back in time to _stop_ his rise to power?”

“It was and it still is of course! But I’ve been thinking that now is not the time for us to strike. Fleur, I know you’re not happy about this either but just hear me out, please.” 

Fleur raised her eyebrow, looking doubtful but didn’t say anything else. 

“Even if we stop him from returning in a few months, we are just prolonging the inevitable. Those blasted Horcruxes are still out there harboring bits of his black and twisted soul, just waiting to be used to bring him back. That’s why he made them in the first place. Someone in the future might find a different one and resurrect him again. Then he will show up somewhere else, at some other time that we aren’t expecting, and we won’t have a clue as to what is coming! What if another 50 years goes by? 100? At least this way we have an idea of what he will do, we've seen it before.

"Remember Dumbledore’s message... _‘Dark times lie ahead of us and there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right.’_ It would be easy to ‘kill’ him now but is that the right choice? I can’t damn someone else to experience what we endured just so we have some peace. It wouldn’t be right and I know neither of us could live with ourselves if we did. The guilt and uncertainty would be devestating.”

“Why don’t we just get the Horcruxes and destroy them now? We know where they all are, right?” Fleur shrugged “Then we can kill him in the graveyard. Problem solved.”

“Unfortunately no. Two are missing. Dumbledore found the Gaunt ring, but since he hasn’t experienced that in this timeline, we don’t know where that is. The other one is his snake, Nagini. She is in hiding and won’t come out until he summons her back.”

“Well, why don’t we just destroy the ones we can get now so we have less to deal with later?”

“Because Voldemort can feel them get destroyed, so we need to destroy them all at once. Otherwise we will alert him to our plan and spook him or have him go on the defensive. We know that Voldemort is at his most dangerous when he feels threatened. We need to lull him into a false sense of security, make him feel like he’s in control. Only when he thinks he’s won will he let down his guard and be vulnerable for us to strike him and end him once and for all.”

Fleur sighed and rubbed her temples. "I really am starting to hate those damn things..."

“And there’s something else you should know…” 

“This keeps getting better and better” the blonde Veela groaned sarcastically.

“Harry is also a Horcrux. One made accidentally the night Voldemort murdered his parents.” 

Fleur paled at that.

“I need to find a way to extract the bit of Voldemort’s soul from him so he doesn’t have to die.” Hermione clenched her jaw and looked to the ceiling to try to keep her composure and prevent tears from falling. “I can’t lose him, again.”

Fleur was silent for a very long time, leaned forward on her elbows with her face in her hands, as she thought through everything. Eventually the Frenchwoman let out a long defeated sigh.

“I do not like this, but I think you are right. Voldemort must come back. So once he comes back, what then?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t figured that out yet. I mean, the Battle at the Ministry is always an option I guess, assuming things work out the same way with the prophecy and all. I mean, we can always use the prophecy to draw him out, too. We know he is too paranoid to let something that could harm him exist. He’ll want to destroy it.” Hermione sighed with relief that Fleur agreed with her. “Whatever happens, at least we know he won’t strike right away.”

“How do we know that?”

“Voldemort won’t act until he’s feeling confident. He will want to operate in secrecy, getting his pawns ready and rebuilding his power, biding his time until the moment is right. Besides, it’s hard to plan world dominion when the Ministry is up your arse looking for you. If Voldemort is one thing, it’s patient.”

“Hmph, I was going to say pure fucking evil.” Fleur snorted and rolled her eyes at the thought of giving Voldemort even the slightest compliment. 

“Well, I won’t argue that.” Hermione grimaced slightly “But he's very strategic and calculated. He will only strike when he thinks victory is certain.”

“Fine. So that brings us back to the Third Task.”

“Right… about that. Well, the winner obviously can’t be you, Krum, or Cedric, they’ll kill you instantly if you show up in the graveyard. I mean, look at what they did to Cedric last time!” Hermione closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought “As much as I hate to say it, it has to be Harry in the graveyard… He has to win the Tournament. But how can we keep him safe? I mean, we’ve been training him and he’s a lot stronger than last time, but there’s no guarantee he gets out of it this time.”

Fleur held up her hand to stop Hermione from her oncoming rambling, “‘Ermione, you are overthinking again. The solution is obvious.”

“And what might that be?” Hermione folded her arms across her chest.

“I will go with Harry.”

“No, Fleur! I can’t let you do that. I can’t have you both risking yourselves!”

“It is the only way and you know it.” Fleur reached across the table and took Hermione’s hand, lifting it to her lips and kissing her knuckles softly “This is my choice, ma belle. It is my duty as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I made an oath to protect and I must honor my promise.”

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but the reality struck her deep. Fleur was the only one who could be there for Harry and she _was_ his best chance. She stared at their joined hands resting on the table in the space between them. When she spoke again her voice was barely audible. “You’re important to me too. I can’t lose you.”

Fleur smiled sadly but tried to sound confident “You won’t. I am stronger and know what is coming. They won’t suspect a thing. And I believe Harry is selfless enough to accept my suggestion for a tie. I will protect him, I promise, ma belle.” 

Hermione sighed, knowing it was a lost cause to argue further. Fleur was right and she needed to believe in her. She needed to believe this would all turn out in the end. They had a plan and they needed to stick to it. Fleur and Harry would travel to the graveyard together. 

“Okay then… Use the marbles to find each other. I’m not sure if Krum will be bewitched again or not, he might come after you again. So it will be better if you can go through the maze together. Watch each other’s backs and all.”

“Oui, that is an excellent plan. I was going to suggest patronus but it would draw too much attention.” Fleur smiled reassuringly, her thumb stroking the back of Hermione’s hand. “Do not worry ma belle. This will work.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As the Third Task approached, Fleur was whisked away by Madame Maxime for ‘extra training’ each weekday evening. Ironically, the spells that she and Hermione were working on together were far more advanced than the relatively basic spells that Maxime insisted she ‘learn.’ But Fleur had to keep up her image as the Beauxbatons Champion and all that entailed.

Hermione spent some of her evenings without Fleur to continue her potion brewing projects that she had started in January. With Fleur’s help, she was able to get her hands on some of the rarer items, like bicorn horn and boomslang skin to make some trickier potions. She had to admit, there were definitely some extra benefits to dating the heiress. 

By the end of April, the Golden Girl was finally satisfied with her impressive array of carefully labeled vials and flasks. She had everything from Sleeping Draughts and Confusion Concoctions to Quick Heals and Pepper-Up Potions. She even had a few flasks of Polyjuice Potion on hand should the situation arise. Fleur laughed at her and said she looked like she was trying to take Snape’s job. Hermione had just rolled her eyes and called her a git.

Once Hermione finished brewing all of her ‘essential potions,’ the Gryffindor embarked on her next potion-related task. She categorized this one in the “good to have but not immediately essential” pile. But it was time sensitive if she was going to have any chance of success, she had to make it sooner than later.

Fleur was standing in the middle of the abandoned girls’ lavatory on the second floor, her arms folded tightly across her chest and scowling deeply as she looked around. It was nearly midnight and she was already in a bad mood from being exhausted from the day. To make matters worse, upon arrival she had asked Hermione why the bathroom was unused. When Hermione simply responded “Moaning Myrtle,” she made the apparently grievous mistake of asking “who is Moaning Myrtle?” 

That simple question prompted the ghost of a young student to pop out of the toilet and fly into her personal space. The ghost girl then went off on a tirade that would have made her original 17-year-old self proud. 

Fleur stood there shocked and mouth open while Myrtle thoroughly scolded her for being insensitive to her feelings and for making fun of her lack of friends. When she tried to apologize, the ghost just zipped away through the wall, screaming loudly. The experience had left a very bad taste in her mouth and she wanted to be anywhere but here, just in case the whiny ghost returned. 

Fleur turned to face Hermione, still irritated but the brunette’s presence was starting to soothe her wounded pride, “So you’re telling me that this place” she gestured in a wide sweeping motion with her arm “is the entrance to the Hall of Secrets or whatever you called it?”

“The Chamber of Secrets.” Hermione corrected as she wandered over to one of the porcelain sinks that made up one of the sides of a large octagonal column in the center of the room. “And no, not this whole place, just this.”

“A sink? It looks like all the other sinks.” Fleur walked around the structure to confirm that the sides all looked identical, each had a porcelain sink and mirror. “Are we going down the drain or something?”

“It’s a special sink” Hermione grinned mischievously “and that’s _exactly_ what we will be doing.”

“How? I don’t think either of us will fit in that tiny hole.” Fleur raised her eyebrow as she approached the brunette and inspected the sink more closely. It looked like a normal sink and she couldn’t feel any unique magical energy around it. “I feel nothing special about it.”

All magical and enchanted items, especially powerful ones, had a kind of magical signature. There were a number of determining factors but it was primarily based on the spell’s intended effect, the intent with which the spell had been cast, the spell's intensity, and the time that had elapsed since the casting. Of course, if the spell caster was skilled enough, they could cloak or manipulate the signature to appear stronger or weaker to attract or dissuade people from interacting with the object. 

Being a part-magical creature herself, Fleur was naturally more in tune with the magic in the world. It was likely a Veela defense mechanism to help them avoid danger from magical sources. As a result, she was subconsciously aware of magic around her, always feeling it like a dull humming energy, pulsing around her. More often than not she just tuned it out, otherwise it would probably have driven her insane by now. But when she was close to powerful or Dark objects, the thrumming would intensify and instantly put her on alert. 

After years of practice she had started to develop the skill to ‘read’ or sense the signatures more actively. It would take even more skill to be able to hone in and separate specific magical signatures from others, which she did not have yet. But even at their current level, her abilities had proven to be exceptionally useful. When she was a curse-breaker for Gringotts, she would be able to sense when there were Dark objects compared to just powerful objects. So she at least knew what she could safely touch and what would likely curse her. 

However, sensing for magic was especially tricky to do in a place like Hogwarts where practically everything was magical. 

Hermione didn’t respond to Fleur’s comment about the lack of a magical signature coming from the sink. Instead the bookworm stared intently at the faucet and started making a series of long, low hissing noises.

Fleur opened her mouth to question her mate when there was a loud crack and groaning sound, like stone grinding against stone. The startled Veela hissed and jumped back, grabbing her mate’s arm to pull her to safety. She crouched defensively in front of the brunette to shield her from any danger, wand raised for a fight. 

She watched with wide eyes as the walls of the structure split apart and moved outward and then dropped into the floor, revealing a gaping hole where the eight sinks once stood. The room went deathly silent once the stone walls had slid into their final places.

Hermione looked over at Fleur, her face bright and beaming, clearly proud of what she had just done.

Fleur stared at the curly haired witch “What did you do? What language was that? It sounded… I don’t know. It set my teeth on edge just hearing it.”

“I used Parseltongue to open the Chamber. And now that I think about it, your comment about how you felt makes perfect sense. Birds and snakes don’t exactly get along, do they?” Hermione responded simply as she leaned over the edge to look down the hole.

Fleur stood up but kept a firm, protective grip on Hermione’s arm. Everything felt wrong. Strong magic was suddenly pulsing around her. It felt dark and sinister. She recognized it as evil intent. Her Veela was thrashing wildly, begging her to leave this cursed place. “How do you know that language? Why did you have to speak it to open this door? What _is_ this place? This is not what I was expecting when you said let’s go to the Chamber of Secrets tonight.”

“Whoa, slow down… I learned it from Harry a while back, right before the Second Task. The Chamber was built by Salazar Slytherin during the founding of Hogwarts. Unlike the other Founders, he thought that only the pure deserved to study magic here. Since Slytherin was the original Parseltongue, he made it so that only snake language can unlock it. Because only the descendants of his ‘most worthy’ bloodline are born with the gift of snake-speech, they would be the only ones to be able to access the Chamber. To release the monster and purge Hogwarts of the 'unworthy' students studying here.”

“Ah, that explains why I could not sense the magic then when it was closed. Such a powerful wizard surely would know how to conceal their work. Wait, how does Harry know it? Is he a descendant of Slytherin?”

“First, I’m very jealous of that ability… second, no it has to do with his Horcrux connection to Voldemort, who is the actual Heir, and third what _were_ you expecting?”

Fleur nodded and tilted her chin to look at the hole but didn't move any closer, still very unsure about the situation “I don’t know, not something that appears to be a tunnel to the Underrealm… What is worth going through all this trouble? What is down there that you need so badly?”

“A basilisk.”

“WHAT!?!” Fleur screeched and pulled Hermione away from the ledge. 

“Don’t worry, it’s dead. Harry killed it in our second year. Didn’t I tell you?”

Fleur raised her eyebrows “Non. But knowing you two, somehow I am not surprised that you would find yourselves facing a basilisk. You have a real knack for finding trouble.”

Hermione looked sheepish, “Well, I think trouble has a real knack for finding us, actually. And I didn't face it, I was too busy being petrified in the hospital wing.”

“Why do you need a basilisk then?”

“To destroy the Horcruxes.”

Fleur huffed, _right, the Horcruxes..._ the next big item on their save-the-world to-do list. Assuming she lived through their plan for the Third Task.

“In the original timeline, when Ron and I entered the Chamber during the Battle, only the skeleton was left. Everything else had decomposed, so we only had the fangs to use, which meant we only had three uses. Since only two years have passed in the new timeline, I think there should still be skin and tissue available. Maybe even marrow in the bones!” Hermione continued. It was surprising and slightly worrying how excited she was about what they were about to do.

“You are lucky you are my mate. I would not throw myself down a hole in the ground and go wading through rotten basilisk flesh for just anybody.”

Hermione grinned and leaned up to kiss Fleur on the cheek. The unexpected contact made the blonde blush slightly. “I know, you are so wonderful I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do and I hope to always be worthy of you in return. So once we have this… stuff, what do you plan on doing next?” Fleur wrinkled her nose in disgust, still displeased by the idea of being close to a mortal enemy of her species, even if it was dead.

“I plan on salvaging whatever parts haven’t decomposed yet and render a potion. If it is successful I think I shall call it ‘Basilisk Broth: Destroyer of Horcruxes.’ Any other questions?”

“May I have another kiss?”

Hermione laughed and kissed her cheek again, pulling away with a grin “Shall we?”

Fleur gulped and mustered her courage, gripping tight to her mate’s hand for support. Everything inside her screamed to run but she nodded slowly “Together?”

“Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are going to be hitting the ground hard from here on out. I was originally going to do some short scenes in between these big time jumps but they had other plans and I felt like trying to write/include these just messed with the flow of the story. Maybe one little side-fluff but otherwise it’s go time!  
> That being said, if you have any requests for short one-shot scenes during this period of time (or even previously), I will be happy to write them later and post after this work ends but I don’t want to mess with the writing flow, so to speak. Some things I was going to do: their first date, memories (from their Occlumency/Legilimency sessions), Gabrielle being a nosy little shit (I mean, sister), etc.


	21. Chapter 21

« So she’s really not going to tell you where she’s taking you? » Evangeline rolled over onto her stomach, laying flat with her chin resting on her forearms as she watched Fleur hold up different outfits in the mirror, trying to decide what to wear on her date with Hermione. The blonde was standing in just her undergarments, but after sharing a room for six years at Beauxbatons, the two had no shame around each other. Plus, they were French. And they were Veela. Modesty wasn’t an issue for either of them.

« Non, she will not budge other than we are going somewhere nice and around Muggles. She is so stubborn sometimes! » Fleur whined but in truth she loved the idea of Hermione wanting to surprise her. After officially dating for three months, she knew that the Golden Girl was exceptionally thoughtful and creative, so she probably had something very special planned.

« Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it will be amazing. You deserve a break, you’ve been working so hard! I’m glad Maxime gave you the night off. »

« I know! I swear that woman is determined to work me to death! But I guess that is the price for being the Beauxbatons Champion. » Fleur grinned, holding up a red dress. 

Evangeline scrunched her nose « I’m not feeling it. »

« Well, that’s a shame because that was my last outfit. I’ve gone through my entire selection! I didn’t exactly bring a lot of Muggle-passing outfits. Merde, I really miss my closet at home. » Fleur sighed longingly and flopped onto her bed next to her friend.

« Are you open to a crazy idea? »

« At this point, sure. What did you have in mind? »

« Wait here, I’ll be right back. » Evangeline jumped up and darted out of the room, leaving a confused and dismayed Fleur. 

The blonde Veela waved her hand and sent the heaping pile of discarded clothes back to their hangers in the wardrobe. She closed her eyes and wondered what her mate was up to, probably also getting ready. She cracked an eyelid when she heard Evangeline smash into the invisible barrier at the threshold of her room, swearing loudly and dropping the black garment bag she was carrying. _Good to know my wards work._ She laughed loudly as she watched her friend stagger to her feet again and waved her hand to dispel the defensive enchantment.

« I hate that damn blood ward! We’re practically family in all ways but blood, can’t you make an exception? » Evangeline huffed through her frustration as she gathered up the garment bag and entered the room. She stood by the bed glaring at the woman laughing her ass off at her expense « You know, I really don’t know if I should help you with this now, just to spite you. »

« Non, please! I need your help! Please, Evangeline DesJardins, you are so wonderful and kind, won’t you help me? » Fleur’s smile instantly dropped and her expression turned to a well practiced, pleading puppy-eyes.

« Fine, because you are my friend and you asked so nicely. » Evangeline set the bag on the bed next to Fleur, who sat up, crossing her legs, leaning forward in anticipation. « Open mind? » 

« Open mind. » The alpha Veela agreed.

« Then stand and close your eyes. » Evangeline unzipped the bag and pulled out the contents, and started putting them on Fleur.

Fleur obliged, allowing her friend to dress her like a life-size doll. She wanted to look, but she trusted Evangeline like family and knew that she wouldn’t make her look bad. In some ways she trusted Evangeline more than her family. She would never let Gabrielle dress her. 

The DesJardins clan was under the protection of the Delacour Clan, both families were bound together by oaths taken long ago. During the forming of the Clan, the DesJardins matriarch had sworn loyalty, service and support in return for the Clan’s protection, resources and influence. All members of the DesJardins clan were naturally skilled healers, a service they provided to the rest of the Clan if called upon. It would lead to Evangeline’s death in the future when the healers were called in to assist during the evacuation of Beauxbatons. The brunette had been distracted trying to heal an injured student and hadn’t seen the Death Eater’s curse.

« All done! What do you think? » Evangeline took a step back to admire her work.

Fleur’s eyes widened as she looked down at herself « Are you sure? Do you think she would like that? » She moved over to her mirror to take a good look at herself. She would have never picked something like this on her own, but now that she saw herself, she had to admit that she thought she looked good. 

« I think she will love it. Though I’m sure she would love it even more if it was on the floor » the brunette Veela smirked and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

« Enough of that you! We are going slow and building a relationship together, not just jumping to the fun parts. »

Evangeline giggled « Fine, fine… now will you let me do your hair? »

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At precisely 6:00, Hermione knocked on the door to the Beauxbatons Carriage and took a step back, smoothing down the black fabric of her cocktail dress. She was looking forward to their date and had taken great care in planning something special for them. They had been working so hard for the past few months that they both could use a break. One night off was not going to be the end of the world. 

Besides, they were about as prepared as they could be for the Third Task so it was an awkward waiting game. They even had an extraction plan. Fleur would bring the Invisibility Cloak to mask her presence and then as soon as the ritual was complete, she would grab Harry and they would portkey back. It wasn't perfect but it was their best chance. They continued to work on strengthening both Fleur and Harry’s dueling and spells, but there was not much else to be done. It killed her to think of what might happen to either of them, the worry constantly gnawing at her. They were the most important people in her life and the thought of either of them coming to harm…

“Bon soir, Mademoiselle Granger. Come in, I’ll let Fleur know you’re 'ere.” A Beauxbatons boy opened the Carriage door, pulling her from her thoughts. He moved aside to let her in and swept off to go find said woman. Word had traveled quickly that she and Fleur were dating, so all of the French students knew who she was by now. 

At first their relationship had caused more than a few rumors and lots of raised eyebrows and whispers, mostly from the Hogwarts students, but after the first month or so even those died down. Every now and then Hermione would catch disapproving glances from her peers but she really couldn’t be bothered to care. She was proud of who she was and even more proud to be with Fleur. So she held her head high and held Fleur’s hand tightly as they walked through the corridors on their way to class or snuck in a quick kiss on the cheek during mealtimes. But otherwise they had kept the public displays of affection to a bare minimum.

“You look absolutely lovely, ma belle.” Fleur’s soft lilt floated through the sitting lounge where she had been waiting, watching the paintings move.

Hermione smiled when she heard her girlfriend and turned to face her. Her jaw dropped so fast she was worried that she might have accidentally dislocated it. Fleur was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, her arms folded across her chest and her hip cocked to the side. She looked… Despite her exceptionally wide vocabulary, she had absolutely no words. All she could do was stare, her brown eyes shamelessly raking up and down the Veela's body.

The Veela was wearing a sleek black suit, a white button up under the jacket, her silvery-blonde hair pulled back in a bun. And was that one of her Gryffindor ties? When did the French witch get her hands on it? She had a confident smirk, her crystal blue eyes dancing brightly with excitement, clearly proud of the reaction she had gotten.

“I seem to ‘ave rendered ze Golden Girl speechless, non? Do you like eet?” the blonde slowly sauntered across the room to the stunned brunette, leaning forward to kiss her girlfriend on the forehead.

“You look just… wow. Damn, Fleur. You look positively dashing.” Hermione had never imagined that she would see Fleur in a Muggle suit like this but now that she had, the image was permanently etched into her mind and she had absolutely zero issues with that. 

“Eet ees Evangeline’s. I did not know she would own somezzing like zis but I am glad. I quite like the look. And eet seems you do too, non?”

Hermione nodded emphatically. “Very much, actually. I didn’t realize power lesbian was my thing, but I stand corrected.” She leaned up and kissed her on the cheek “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

“Zank you, ma belle.” Fleur beamed and held out her hand “Ready? I am looking forward to zis very much. I zink tonight will be special, non?”

“It is special indeed, you only get to turn 18 once, after all.” Hermione joked and accepted the offered hand and led the way out of the Carriage into the cool evening.

“Where are we going? Hogsmeade? I thought you said dress Muggle-passing.” Fleur slipped back to her accentless speech as soon as they were out of earshot of anyone. 

Hermione grinned broadly as she walked “Hogsmeade first, but that is just a quick stop. We’ll be Apparating out of there to our final destination.”

“Where are we now?” Fleur blinked and looked around. They had landed in the middle of a short dark alley. She could hear sounds of cars and people talking as they walked by but otherwise there were no distinguishing features or landmarks that she could see from their current position.

“You don’t recognize it?”

“Non. I do not usually spend my time in smelly alleyways with piles of trash and I am personally offended that you would suggest it!” The blonde pouted slightly, though mostly in jest by her tone.

Hermione laughed at her girlfriend’s antics and took her hand, leading out of the alley. Once they had made it to the street, she led the way down the block toward a large grassy park. She felt Fleur stiffen and gasp aloud when she realized where they were. “Now do you recognize it?”

Fleur’s eyes were blown wide as she looked up at the towering metal structure up ahead of them “That... that is the Tour Eiffel… This is Paris. You brought me to Paris?” 

“Well, you mentioned that you had never actually been here. Is this okay? We can go somewhere else. I just thought you might like it.”

“I absolutely love it! I’ve always wanted to come here!” Fleur beamed and picked up Hermione by the waist and lifted her, spinning her around in the air, kissing her cheek before setting her down again “Mother comes here sometimes for business, but I’ve never had a chance to come. Our home is in Marseille, so I spent most of my time there or in the surrounding area. Or if we took family trips we would go abroad. I’m ashamed to say I have not been around my own home country very much.”

Hermione’s heart felt light to see Fleur so happy. “I’m glad you like it. We’ve got dinner reservations, but otherwise the time is ours to do as we will. Dumbledore gave us special permission to be out, but we need to be back by 11, so we have until 10:30 to give us time to get back from Hogsmeade.”

“Ah, that makes sense, I was wondering how you managed this.”

“What can I say? I’m just magical. And it’s your birthday! Therefore it is my duty to spoil my girlfriend” Hermione smirked and looped her arm around Fleur’s and led the way down the streets toward the restaurant. Fleur was chattering excitedly as they walked. Hermione wasn’t going to point out that in her excitement, the Beauxbatons student had slipped back into her native tongue.

After their dinner, Hermione let Fleur take the lead. She was loving every minute of their date and glad to see Fleur so excited about everything, pulling her along like a kid in a candy store. First they went up the Eiffel Tower to look at the city below. Fleur was pointing out various landmarks and buildings they could see, rattling off Muggle and Wizard history of the city. Hermione was surprised that the Veela knew so much Muggle History, apparently Beauxbatons had a class, similar to Hogwarts' Muggle Studies class. After that, they took the walking path along the Seine River toward the Louvre. They didn’t have time to go in and the museum was closed anyway but Fleur wanted to see it before they left. It was a Paris must-do, after all. The grounds were still open at least and they could wander around. It was still rather romantic.

Hermione had to admit, the Louvre campus was an impressive view, she had never seen anything like it before. The iconic glass pyramid was lit up for the evening, as was the rest of the giant fortress-turned palace-turned museum that housed the world’s largest collection of art. She held Fleur’s hand as they strolled along the walking paths between the geometric pools of water that surrounded the pyramid, the fountains bubbling and splashing softly in the background. 

“Let’s sit down for a moment,” she pointed to a bench to the side of the path they were on, which Fleur happily agreed to. “Did you enjoy your evening?”

“I did, very much. Any time with you is amazing, but you truly outdid yourself, ma belle. I can’t believe you did all of this for me!” Fleur reached up and stroked her cheek with her thumb, causing her to shiver. “Are you cold?”

“A little…” Hermione admitted and leaned into Fleur’s touch.

Fleur pulled off her jacket, draping it over Hermione’s shoulders. She leaned back and rested her arm on the backrest, providing a place for the brunette to snuggle. 

Hermione happily leaned against her girlfriend with her head nestled in the crook of the Veela’s neck, breathing in the lavender-vanilla scent. Her eyes slipped shut for a moment, just enjoying the evening. 

“This is what I’m fighting for. To bring lasting peace to the world and for the chance to have this with you…” Hermione pulled away and turned to face her girlfriend, staring deeply into those icy pools “… for the rest of my life.”

Fleur gazed back, unblinking as she listened. She was so still that Hermione wasn’t sure if she was even breathing anymore.

“I love you and I choose you, Fleur Delacour. Always.” Her eyes slipped shut as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Fleur’s. She had moved slowly to give Fleur the opportunity to lean away or stop her, but this time there was no resistance and the blonde closed the distance between them.

This wasn’t her first kiss, but from the moment their lips touched, all memory of her previous experiences faded. It was only her and Fleur. Despite it being a rather chaste kiss, it was the most exhilarating feeling she had ever experienced. It was as if time and space had stopped around them. Everything about it felt right. She felt a warm power spreading through her body, radiating outward from her heart to the tips of her fingers and toes. The energy surged and crackled in her veins. 

And it was over all too soon. They weren’t the only ones enjoying the Louvre this evening, after all.

She and Fleur pulled away after a few short seconds. She was concerned to see tears start to fall from those beautiful cerulean orbs.

“Fleur?”

“I’m sorry, ma belle. I am just so happy. I can’t begin to describe what it feels like.”

Hermione relaxed slightly, “I think I have a pretty good idea.” She reached up and rubbed her thumb along Fleur’s cheek, wiping away the little tears. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while, but I wanted to make it special. Your birthday seemed like a pretty good reason.”

Fleur smiled and laughed away her remaining tears “Well, I must say this was a much better gift than the first time around… you are certain, you know what this means for us.”

“I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have done it. I appreciate that you gave me the time to really think about it. And I’ve enjoyed getting to know you again and working to build up our relationship. I know we’re young and look even younger, but I know it in my heart that you’re the one for me. If the previous timeline taught me anything, it’s that life is too short and the future is uncertain. So when you find something good, reach out and take it before the chance is gone. I don’t want to waste another moment of what time we have left and I want to make the most of it. I love you and I accept you, stubborn Veela and all.”

“I love you, too, ma belle. So let’s not waste our time then.” Fleur grinned and reached up to cup her mate’s jaw in her hands, pulling her in for another kiss. 

Hermione melted under Fleur’s touch, losing herself in the moment again. This kiss was more urgent than their first, it was deep in meaning and significance. Her lips pressed firmly against Fleur’s, her hand snaked behind the blonde’s neck, holding her close and she felt strong fingers weave into her unruly curls, tugging slightly. But eventually oxygen became an issue and she reluctantly pulled away, breathing hard. She tilted her head and pressed their foreheads together, her eyes still closed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing you. I just... want to do that all the time! Just, wow...”

Fleur just chuckled softly “It seems like such a problem. Whatever will I do?”

Hermione playfully swatted her shoulder and gave her a quick peck before leaning away “As much as I want to stay out here with you, we need to get back or Dumbledore will have my head.”

“Non, he cannot have it, I do not share.” Fleur smiled and stood up and helped Hermione to her feet. “Let’s find somewhere safe to Apparate. I can take us back this time so you don’t have to use too much magic.”

Hermione dropped Fleur off at the Beauxbatons Carriage once they got back to the school grounds and used a series of secret passages to make her way back to Gryffindor Tower undetected. She was just about to the portrait of the opera-singing, wine-loving woman when a soft voice spoke out from a shadowy corner.

“Licorice wand?”

Hermione spun on her heel and drew her wand in one smooth motion. She pointed the wand away when she saw Dumbledore emerge from an alcove next to a stone statue. In his hand was indeed a pack of candy. She had forgotten how much the aged wizard loved sweets. She declined his offer.

“Good evening, Miss Granger. I trust everything went well and you had a lovely evening?”

“We did, sir, thank you for granting us permission to leave the grounds.”

Dumbledore just smiled and waved it off “It is important to remember to take a little time to ourselves every now and then. You two have more than earned one night to enjoy yourselves.”

Hermione nodded “Was there anything I can help you with tonight?”

“No, I just wanted to check in on your progress. It has been a while since we talked. Do you have a plan, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, sir, I know what we must do… it's not an easy choice, but I am ready to do whatever it takes.”

“Good, I knew you would think of something.” Soft blue eyes twinkled behind the half-moon glasses.

Hermione paused, a question that had been burning in the back of her mind and she hadn’t had time to think about it with everything else going on. “Sir, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Miss Granger, ask away. Now whether or not I have an answer is a different story.”

“When I used the _Tempus Novus_ and accidentally brought Fleur back with me… is it possible that we weren’t the only ones?”

“Ah, I was wondering when you were going to come to me with that. Simply put, no. It was just you two.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Well, I designed it, after all. I’ve always said that help will be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it and those who deserve it. Miss Delacour is an essential piece to your current mission, so that is why she was brought back. I fear that without her help, the future is doomed to repeat itself.”

Hermione sobered at that but also felt a wave of relief knowing the reason how she and Fleur were sent back and there was no risk of anyone else making the journey. 

“Do you have any other questions tonight?”

“I always have questions, I’m Hermione Granger, after all. But not about this. Good night, Headmaster.” The brunette grinned and turned to the portrait as the Headmaster wandered away down the dark corridor, humming a jaunty tune to himself.


	22. Chapter 22

June 24th was upon them in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Prepared or not, this was it.

As much as they hated to do it, they had not told Harry what the plan was. The only thing he knew was that he and Fleur were going to split the win. Which he thought was fair and fitting, considering how much time Fleur had spent with him helping on the previous tasks. Both Fleur and Hermione knew that if the Boy Who Lived knew the full plot, he would do something incredibly stupid to try to save them and therefore put their entire plan in jeopardy. They had to believe that he had the right instincts, since he had made it out the first time. All Fleur had to do was to touch him right after the ritual was complete, then summon the Cup to bring them back. And figure out a way not to get caught and die in between. _Easy, right?_

By 5:30, the grounds were buzzing with unbridled excitement in anticipation for the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament. The spectator stands were filling up quickly, students were cheering loudly and waving painted banners to show their support for their favored Champion. The Weasley Twins were making their way through the stands, working the crowd taking bets. 

Inside her private section of the Champions’ tent, Fleur took a deep breath and looked in the mirror, anxiously picking at the hem of her shirt.

She was wearing a tight fitting long sleeve cotton shirt and pants set, both Beauxbatons blue, of course. She had wanted something light yet also quiet. The Invisibility Cloak protected against visual detection but not sound. So much of their plan depended on her not being detected.

And that was assuming she and Harry even made it to the graveyard. They still had to 'win' and somehow make sure that Krum or Viktor got there first. Last time Krum had been bewitched by the Imperious Curse and had attacked both her and Cedric. She figured it would be the same this time and had to be on her guard.

She could hear the raucous crowd just outside. Last time she remembered that the energy had hyped her up, got her excited about the prospect of bringing honor to herself and her school But now each roar of support felt like a weight falling onto her chest, slowly suffocating her from the inside out, filling her with dread. 

She took several deep, steadying breaths and shook her arms out at her sides, trying her best to calm herself down. But how can one stay calm when they know that in a few short hours, they will be witnessing the rise of arguably the darkest wizard in history? 

To make matters worse, she hadn’t had a chance to see Hermione before she had to leave for the Champions' Tent. They were going to meet up an hour before the Task, but instead of the bushy haired brunette, Harry had shown up instead, offering sincere apologies on Hermione’s behalf. To say she had been disappointed by the turn of events would have been the understatement of the century, but she figured that whatever Hermione was dealing with must have been incredibly important. Still, it would have been nice to get a good luck kiss. The brunette would just have to make it up to her with a ‘good job’ kiss instead.

Hermione. Her one. Her mate. The woman she loved unconditionally and who loved her back. Who had accepted her for everything she was and wasn't. With those thoughts she steeled her nerve and gave her reflection a self-affirming nod. She could do this for her. For them. For everyone.

She quickly checked her pockets to make sure everything was in place. Her marble was in one pocket and the shrunk-down Invisibility Cloak was in the other, both illusioned away. Her wand holster was strapped tight to her thigh with her wand secured inside. 

She took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. With a quick “You can do this” to her reflection, she left her room and made her way to the common area of the tent.

“Gather around, Champions, gather around!” Ludo Bagman grinned broadly, waving his hands to beckon the four students over to him. “First, I would like to congratulate you all. You have shown extraordinary skill and bravery time and again. And now we have it, the final event! You all must be very excited!”

 _Non_ Fleur thought but kept up her fake smile. Her eyes shifted and she caught Harry’s gaze. He gave her a subtle smile and nod. 

“Now, in a moment you will all be escorted by your headmaster to your separate entrance. Professor Moody has volunteered to escort Mr. Potter, since not even our dear Dumbledore can possibly be in two places at once.” The headmaster just laughed at the joke and brushed it off with a “right you are, Bagman.” Fleur could have sworn that she saw his eyes twinkle a little brighter for a second.

She bristled at the thought of Moody being alone with Harry but she could do nothing about it. She continued to fake her smile but it was quickly turning into a grimace.

“Since Miss Delacour and Mr. Potter are tied for first place, they will enter at the sound of the first cannon. Then Mr. Diggory will enter after two and a half minutes have elapsed, followed by Mr. Krum at the five minute mark. Now, in order to win, all one must do is touch the Triwizard Cup, which is hidden somewhere deep in the maze. The Cup will instantly transport you back to the Winner’s Circle and we will have our newest Triwizard Champion! But beware! The path to the Cup is well guarded by various creatures that have been instructed to put up a fight should you encounter them. Any questions so far?”

Fleur’s heart dropped at that twist. _What?_ She did not see that coming. Well her task just got a hell of a lot more challenging. Everyone’s expressions reflected her sentiments but they shook their heads and the excitable Tournament coordinator continued talking.

“Now, if at any point in time you feel the need to withdraw or be rescued, you need only cast red sparks into the air and you will be ejected from the maze. But otherwise once you enter, you are on your own.” Bagman concluded and gave everyone a broad grin. “Best of luck to you all, please head to your respective starting positions!”

The roar of the crowd was deafening when the four Champions and their escorts emerged from the tent. Fleur did her best to put on a smile and waved half-heartedly to the spectators, desperately searching the crowd for her mate, but Maxime pulled her along toward her designated entrance.

« You can do this, Fleur. You will bring our school glory! » Maxime started a pep talk but Fleur was barely listening. Her palms were sweating and her heart was beating rapidly in her chest.

« Thank you, Madame, I shall do my best. » Fleur responded once the tall woman stopped talking. They had moved around the thick outer wall of the living maze before they came to a break in the hedges. Once in place, Maxime sent her patronus to alert Ludo that the Beauxbatons Champion was in place. The silvery Abraxan galloped away, casting an eerie light over the dark hedge maze. 

Cedric walked by a moment later, escorted by Dumbledore, on his way to his entrance point to her left. The other Hogwarts Champion offered her a slight smile, though in this timeline they had not befriended one another like last time. That meant Harry and Krum had gone the other way from her. She needed to move her way to the right to try to find Harry. 

After what felt like an eternity, the sound of a cannon rang out and Fleur took off running straight into the maze. The second she entered the maze, a heavy silence fell around her. All she could hear was the sound of her heart beating rapidly in her chest, the blood pounding in her ears. She ran forward, drawing her wand and following the only path she could. As soon as she heard the wall close behind her, she grabbed her marble and activated the tracking charm, following the magical pull. She and Harry had five minutes to find one another before Cedric and Krum both entered the maze and it got really complicated. Hopefully she didn’t run into any creatures along the way.

A major issue that she had not foreseen was that the marble wanted to take her on a direct path to its twin, but she couldn’t run through the walls. She had tried _Incendio_ and _Bombarda_ to burn and blast an opening, but the walls remained firmly solid. They did make a horrible screeching sound when attacked, but otherwise the dense green foliage stayed put. So she kept moving forward, trying to follow the pull of the marble whenever she came to a fork in her path.

She was grateful that she and Hermione had resumed their habit of going on a morning run together, so even though she was running hard, she was not feeling particularly winded.

The cannon sounded again. Cedric had entered the maze. _Shit, shit, shit. Where are you, Harry?!_ Fleur thought as she hurried along. She could feel the marble heating up slightly, at least she knew that Harry was getting closer. Then the cannon boomed again after what felt like mere seconds later. All four champions were inside the maze now.

 _Damn it!_ Fleur growled but kept pressing forward. She had forgotten how big this thing was. Also the fact that the walls shifted on their own did not help the situation, often throwing a dead end along what was previously a long straight corridor, making her have to turn around and backtrack to find a new route.

She was running along a narrow passage between the hedges when she heard a horrible screeching noise from overhead. She had just enough time to dive out of the way when a giant Acromantula dropped down onto the path where she had been standing moments ago. 

The Acromantula reared back on its two back legs and waved its front legs at her, snapping its mandibles menacingly at her. 

_Spiders. It just had to be spiders._ The eyes, the legs and the way they scurried along just creeped her out. She did not like spiders by any means and knew various hexes to banish or kill them. But they were living creatures and she did not like the idea of taking life unnecessarily. Even with regular sized spiders, she would just levitate the spider outside and let it go on its merry way.

She pointed her wand at the massive spider and shouted _Petrificus Totalis!_ Her spell hit the eight-legged creature right in the center of its head between its two largest eyes and the body seized up and fell to the ground, locked in the full body binding spell. 

She was grateful that the spider was blocking the path behind her, so she kept moving forward, pressing deeper into the maze.

The further she moved into the maze, the thicker the air felt. It was heavy and burned her lungs and made her legs feel like she was running through sand. Sweat beaded thickly across her brow and her muscles were starting to ache slightly. Her Veela was on edge but fortunately was letting her stay fully in control.

Her marble was almost uncomfortably hot now, Harry must be very close. 

She was sprinting down a path when suddenly there was a loud cracking sound to her left and the wall started to shift and close around her. She saw a small opening near the base of the hedge to her right and dove through it, tucking and rolling on the other side, crashing into a warm body on the other side, knocking them off their feet. 

“Fleur!”

“‘Arry!” Fleur had never been more grateful to see Harry. She jumped to her feet and hugged him quickly but kept the reunion short. They were running out of time. They still needed to stop Cedric and Krum from reaching the Cup first. She held him at arms’ length, looking him over quickly. His shirt was dirty and the sleeve torn and he had a nasty gash on his right cheek. 

“What ‘appended?”

“Blast-Ended Skwert got me. I’m fine, really.” Harry shrugged and tried to reassure her “Any trouble for you? Have you run into Cedric or Viktor?”

“Non, just a giant spider.”

“This maze is bonkers!” He shook his head “Well, we should get going. I came from that direction.” Harry pointed behind them, so the pair headed off in the opposite direction, pushing further in.

They ran together for a few minutes when Fleur suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. She grabbed Harry by the shoulders and threw him down to the ground just as a red bolt of light flew by. She spun and pointed her wand behind them, facing Krum. The Bulgarian’s eyes were glazed over and slightly hazy. The Imperious Curse. She recognized it from the day in Defense class.

She threw a few spells at Viktor in rapid succession in the time it took Harry to get back on his feet. Once the fight was two-to-one it ended quickly. Harry’s _Stupify_ managed to break through Viktor’s protective shield and hit him square in the chest. 

Fleur felt slightly bad for attacking him but had no regrets overall. Especially considering the alternative fate was probably death if he touched the Cup first.

They took off again, moving a little slower to conserve energy, not knowing what lay ahead of them.

Further and further they went, following twists and turns. Dead ends and looping pathways slowed their progress. Harry had the brilliant idea of leaving a little gold line along the ground, so they could at least know where they had been. It did open them up to be followed, but between the two of them they had enough strength to overpower whatever came crawling out of the hedges. 

As they made their way in deeper, the air started to take on an unnatural chill and Fleur could see little puffs of vapor when she exhaled. They moved forward cautiously, wands out and ready. What she heard next chilled her to the bone. A panicked voice broke the silence, crying out, pleading desperately. 

“Help me! Please, anyone!”

Fleur had never seen a Dementor in person before, only heard exaggerated tales as a child to scare her into eating her vegetables. She was not at all prepared for what she saw around the bend. 

A large figure, shrouded in a tattered black robe, floating in the air. She could hear its labored breathing, like a chain being dragged across stone. She felt an empty chasm fill her chest, filling her with dread and despair. In its bony clutches was Cedric, holding him up several feet off the ground. The Hufflepuff was struggling, thrashing his head from side to side as the Dementor leaned forward. 

Fleur acted on instinct, not waiting for Harry to react, there wasn’t time to hesitate. She filled her mind with thoughts of Hermione and shouted _“Expecto Patronum!”_ as loudly as she could.

A huge male lion erupted from the tip of her wand, bounding forward, his silvery mane flowed majestically as he ran toward the Dementor. The cloaked figure dropped Cedric, leaving him in a crumpled heap, as it was chased away by the big cat.

Fleur was shocked by the change in her patronus. It had always been a Harpy Eagle before. She didn’t have time to ponder this, Cedric’s pained groan pulled her from her thoughts and she ran over to him, dropping to her knees next to him. Harry followed closely behind.

“Cedric, are you ‘urt?” 

“Not as bad as I could have been. Thanks for that.” Cedric grimaced, buy he was clearly looking worse for wear. 

“Can you stand, mate?” Harry was helping the older boy sit up. 

“I don’t think so. My leg. When it dropped me I felt something pop in my ankle.” Cedric shook his head. “I’ll be fine, you two keep going. Don’t slow yourselves down on my account.”

“You are sure you will be fine?” Fleur was genuinely concerned though also glad it turned out this way. She didn’t feel like cursing another Champion.

“Yeah, you guys saved me, I would have been a goner if you hadn’t come along. I’m going to withdraw. I don’t think I have the strength to continue anyway.” Cedric coughed and his head drooped weakly.

“Easy does it, man. I’ve been on the receiving end of a Dementor before.”

“I’ll be fine. Get going you two.” Cedric nodded, reaching for his wand.

Fleur and Harry both nodded and rose to their feet. As soon as they had moved away, Cedric raised his wand and sent up sparks into the dark sky above.

Fleur’s lion was standing guard around the bend. It approached them when they came into its line of sight.

“Oh, you’re still 'ere?” Fleur addressed it “zank you for zat. I did not know you 'ad changed your form zough. Quite a surprise.”

“It’s because of Hermione, isn’t it? The Gryffindor Lion?” Harry watched the silvery lion with great interest.

“Oui, it seems zat she ees watching over me, even een zis blasted maze.” Fleur nodded and chuckled as the lion head butted her in the chest, purring slightly.

“She must mean a great deal to you.”

“More zan I can even begin to describe. Let’s get moving.”

Fleur sent the lion ahead to scout their path and it eagerly bounded away. It returned a moment later and led the way.

As soon as they came into the open clearing at the center of the maze, it dissolved into a fine silver mist. Its task was complete.

There it was. The Triwizard Cup, sitting on a large white marble dais in the center of the clearing. Its blue crystal edges glowed brilliantly, pulsing rhythmically like a heartbeat.

Fleur looked over at Harry “Well, zis ees eet. We made eet.”

“Together?”

“Togezzer.”


	23. Chapter 23

Fleur hit the ground hard, landing directly on her back, knocking the wind out of her and partially stunning her. Traveling via portkey always made her feel rather disoriented afterwards, but she usually landed more gracefully or at least on her feet. However this was a particularly unpleasant experience. The magic that had been used to add the detour to the graveyard was poorly done, so the trip had been more nauseating than usual and they had a particularly rough landing at the end. 

She rolled over onto her side and coughed hard as she opened her eyes. Her vision was swimming with dark spots and she was having difficulty focusing. She attempted to get to her feet but fell over weakly, her head still throbbing and disoriented from her impact with the hard ground, but she managed to get onto her hands and knees. She needed to find a place to hide and quickly. She could worry about finding Harry and the Cup once she was in a good position.

She tried to get a read on her surroundings but it was fairly dark, the moon was the only source of light illuminating the foreign landscape. She saw grassy hills and a huge mansion in the distance, sitting on the tallest hill. White and grey tombstones littered some of the smaller hills nearby. Unfortunately there was no foliage where she had landed and nothing to duck behind. When she turned around to look in the other direction, cold fear flooded her veins and she froze in place. 

20 feet in front of her stood four Death Eaters, each was wearing plain black robes and silver masks. They were all standing in a half circle around a huge cauldron that was bubbling over an open fire. Smoke was rising from the cauldron, putting off an acrid, metallic smell that made her want to gag. 

Harry was being held in place with a sort of body binding hex by the tallest Death Eater, suspended several feet in the air. She could see that he was struggling against the spell but seemed to be held firmly in place.

They hadn’t noticed her at first it seemed they were focused on whatever they were doing around the cauldron but once she started moving around they all turned to face her and raised their wands in her direction. _Smooth, way to give yourself away, Fleur._ She chastised herself, readying herself for a fight.

One of the other Death Eaters raised their wand and pointed directly at her chest “Avada…”

“No, Crabbe! She is the one she wants!” A raspy voice croaked weakly from her left side. 

_What?_ _Me? Who wants me?_ Fleur thought as she whipped her head around in the direction of the voice. She was gripping her wand tightly but knew there was nothing she could do at this moment. She was outnumbered and they had Harry.

She saw a squat little man with thin greasy hair was approaching her and she instinctively took a step back. He had beady black eyes and a sickly hue to his filthy skin. His over-sized front teeth protruded slightly downward out of his mouth. He reminded her of a beaver. No, not a beaver. A rat.

In his arms he carried a small body, its gangly limbs hanging limply to its side. ‘Body’ was a generous assessment of the creature’s condition. It looked weak and extremely malnourished, more like a skeleton with saggy grey skin covering it than a living, breathing thing. Fleur felt bile rising in her throat as she realized she was looking at the mangled and twisted form of Voldemort.

“No harm comes to the Veela. Not by our hand. Once Bellatrix arrives she can do whatever she wants with the creature.” Voldemort croaked. 

The Death Eaters all chuckled wickedly as if sharing in a private joke.

“McNair, hold her.” The Dark Lord commanded and Fleur felt the spell bind her body from the shoulders down. It felt like being stuffed in a sack, holding her arms and legs in place. Her wand was now pointing uselessly at the ground. But she still had control of her head at least, which was better than nothing. Despite the dread twisting in her stomach, her nostrils flared angrily as she stared defiantly at Voldemort. Her icy blue eyes flashing dangerously to red and back again.

“Mmm… Crouch was right” Voldemort observed her from his position, having to pause every few words to take a few labored breaths. “This one has a fire to her. Strong, too. It’s almost a shame to lose such a spirited young soul. Too bad her blood is tainted with filth otherwise I might have felt compelled to intervene with dear Bella’s plans.” 

As if on cue, a high pitched, maniacal cackle and a cruel voice rang out loud and clear and everyone who could turned to look in the direction of the sound. “Oh, Master, but you promised me a little pet as my reward…”

Rage flooded Fleur’s veins, remembering the horrors her mate had suffered at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her Veela was threatening to take control wanting to avenge her one, but Fleur fought to keep control. She needed to stay calm. This had already gone sideways in ways they hadn’t anticipated. She needed to think clearly to come up with a plan.

Bellatrix was standing on top of the giant stone statue of the winged angel of Death that stood guard over the Riddle mausoleum. She was precariously balanced on the top of the statue's head, her arms were outstretched and she was swaying dangerously from side to side. It looked like she was about to fall but Fleur knew it was an act to add shock value. Or maybe she really was that completely deranged. Regardless of her reasons or lack thereof, the woman was actually in complete control, demonstrated when she stepped forward off the statue and fell slowly to the ground. She landed as gracefully and nimbly as a ballerina. 

Unlike the other Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange wore no mask. She displayed her face proudly. She was also wearing black Death Eater robes and her black curls stuck out wildly in all directions. Her dark eyes were boring holes into Fleur as she slowly approached the French Champion, swaying her hips as she walked. She looked completely unhinged and feral. Everything about the slow, deliberate movements was meant to intimidate and fill her with anxiety. She was calculated but also unpredictable and that made her so dangerous. You never knew what side you were dealing with, and even if you did, she could switch without warning.

Fleur would not give in and she returned the piercing gaze with a glare of her own. It made her skin crawl when she felt Bellatrix’s hand come to rest on her shoulder. The cruel fingers danced along her back as the deranged witch walked in a half-circle behind her. She could feel those cold eyes looking her up and down, as if appraising a prized horse. 

While Bellatrix was circling her like a hungry wolf, she could see that the other two Death Eaters that were not currently holding her and Harry in place had started moving around the cauldron, throwing in various ingredients. She didn’t have time to see much else, as Bellatrix came back into her line of sight, suddenly uncomfortably close to her face. 

The dark haired witch took a few steps back to get a good look at Fleur from the front before moving into her personal space again, standing on her tiptoes and tilting her head to the side so she whispered directly into her ear. She was so close that her lips ghosted the shell of her ear, causing her to shudder involuntarily out of disgust. “Ahhhh, even prettier in person. The pictures in the papers really don’t do you justice, dearie.“

Bellatrix dropped back down to standing flat and took a step back from the blonde “We were going to make you join us, but I think you and I are going to have a lot more fun this way, my little bird. I’m glad to see that you showed up tonight. I didn’t believe Crouch when he told me he thought you two would try to split the win… I was more than prepared to track you down after this… You saved me quite a bit of trouble.” 

“But… You’re supposed to be in Azkaban…” Fleur seethed through clenched teeth.

“You’re supposed to be in Azkaban…” Bellatrix singsonged mockingly “Managed a little jailbreak, didn’t I? Crouch was able to get some of the Dementors to join our side and then it was just too easy… Was a bit of a mess to keep out of the papers, but then again, that oaf of a Minister is very good at covering up things he doesn’t want to admit. Easier to sweep it under the rug than to admit he made a teensy-weensy mistake or that he isn’t in full control of things.” The dark witch ran her long fingernail across her cheek, pressing down as she did. Not enough to break the skin and make her bleed but enough to leave an angry red streak on her pale skin. 

“Don’t touch her!” Harry snarled through gritted teeth, still clearly struggling against the hex holding him in place. Fleur was surprised he was able to talk at all.

Bellatrix looked over at him and giggled, acting as if she was noticing his presence for the first time. Her lips curled into a twisted smirk and slowly made her way over to where he was being held in place. She cooed in a sweetly condescending tone like talking to an infant. “Oh… if it isn’t wittle itty bitty baby Potter twying to be all bwave…” 

She looked him up and down, her smirk falling and her expression turning cold and unreadable once more, her voice returned to normal, a hint of disappointment lacing her words. “Hmph. You’re smaller than I thought you would be. No matter, you’ll still serve your purpose. And when we’re ready to strike, the first person I will go after is your filthy little Mudblood. Maybe we’ll even keep you alive long enough so that you’ll get first row seats to watch. Then again, maybe not.”

Fleur’s blood froze in her veins when she heard that.

“Why?” Harry forced out, his green eyes flashing angrily. Fleur could have sworn she saw his hand twitch.

“Why not? Torturing her is going to be so much fun. I can just see it now.” Bellatrix’s eyes glinted wickedly. Her gaze became distant for a moment as she started imagining all the things she was planning to do to Hermione in the future. 

Fleur’s Veela was thrashing wildly but Fleur kept her at bay.

“We want to make a little example of her. So everyone can see the fate that awaits all the Mudbloods polluting our world. And you will die knowing what is to come and there is nothing you can do to stop it. It’s rather poetic, actually. The first victim of the Dark Lord after his glorious return being none other than Harry Potter’s…” Bellatrix spat on the ground after she said his name “...filthy, little magic-stealing bitch. Don’t you fret, your little Muddy will get what’s coming to her in the end.”

“Enough games, Bellatrix… the time for the ritual is nigh.” One of the Death Eaters spoke in a bored drawl. Long platinum locks hung out from under his hood, cascading onto his chest. 

“I’m just having a little fun, Malfoy.” Bellatrix sneered. “I've got a few years to make up for after all… couldn’t do much in Azkaban could I?”

“You can have all your fun in due time.”

Bellatrix turned to look at Fleur, licking her lips hungrily. “Right you are. Stay right there, my little bird. This will be over soon and then you and I are going to have lots of fun together.” 

The Death Eaters all took up positions around the cauldron, each standing on a corner of a five-pointed star that had been drawn on the ground and started chanting.

In the brief moment to themselves. Harry looked over and caught Fleur’s eye. He smiled softly and mouthed the word “Catch.” 

Fleur didn’t have time to process what was happening. With a subtle twist of his wrist, Harry summoned the Triwizard Cup and sent it hurtling toward her. The second it touched her hand, she was pulled out of the graveyard to safety.

Fleur landed with a hard thud in the middle of the lawn in front of the spectator stands, the Triwizard Cup clutched in her hand. The crowd roared and cheered with applause. 

“The winner of the Triwizard Tournament, from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Miss Fleur Delacour!” Ludo Bagman’s voice boomed out.

She was completely swarmed, everyone eager to congratulate her and shake her hand or take a picture with her. It took her all of three seconds to get her mind back in place and spring to action again.

“MOVE! Out of my way! ‘Arry! I must get to ‘Arry!” She shouted as she tried to swim her way through the crowd, all but pushing people out of the way. Her way was blocked by Krum, who had a sheepish expression, eyes averted, unable to look her in the eyes.

“I am sorry, Miss Delacour. I do not know vat happened in there. I…” 

Fleur huffed but tried to be polite, though what little patience she had was wearing thin. “Viktor, I appreciate eet. You were cursed I zink. Eet was not your fault so zere are no ‘ard feelings. Excuse me, I must go. ‘Arry ees een trouble, I must get out of ‘ere to ‘elp ‘im.”

Viktor furrowed his brow. “In trouble? No, he is not in trouble. Harry is in the medical tent.”

Fleur stammered “What? ‘Ow?”

“He vas found and brought to the tent. I think the Devil’s Snare got him. Look there...” The Bulgarian turned and pointed.

Fleur looked over and sure enough, Harry Potter was sitting on a cot inside the medical tent. Pomfrey was bustling about him. “Zank you, Viktor.” She quickly shook his hand and made her way over. 

Harry looked up and gave her a broad smile that quickly turned into a grimace as he clutched his head. “Fleur… aaah!” The boy was covered head to toe in what looked like small lacerations and other signs of a struggle with the murderous plant.

“‘Arry!? What ‘appened? ‘Ow are you ‘ere?”

Harry shook his head “I dunno, I think I got clobbered pretty hard. Everything in my head’s a little fuzzy. Oh! Congratulations! You deserve that, you do.” He pointed to the large blue and silver cup in her hands.

Fleur’s brow was deeply furrowed. This was not making any sense. Unless... “‘Arry, what do you remember from ze maze?”

“Uh, big hedges, maybe? It was dark…” He furrowed his brow, closing his eyes as he thought about it. “Honestly, not much more. I think I have some sort of memory loss or something from whatever got me in the maze. One moment I was in my room getting ready and meeting with Hermione… now I’m here. It’s all a little bonkers…”

“But… you were zere... we were… non. Non. NON!” Fleur screamed as reality hit her. She burst from the medical tent, searching the crowd desperately for her mate. _What have you done, Hermione?_

“Miss Delacour, a word in private, if you will?” Moody’s gruff voice growled in her ear and she felt a wand press firmly into her back.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_“CRUCIO!”_ Bellatrix screamed, twisting the handle of her walnut wand to intensify the pain caused by the spell. 

Hermione cringed when she heard the Death Eater called McNair screaming out in pain. She knew all too well what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Bellatrix’s wrath. But Fleur was safe. She had a split second when the Death Eaters were distracted to get her mate to safety and she had taken it. She hadn’t intended to split up, but things had gone sideways so fast after they arrived that she had to come up with something on the fly. She knew Fleur would probably hate her later but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.

She needed to figure out a way to escape while she still had time. She knew that they wouldn’t kill her right off the bat. Not when they thought she was Harry. They still needed him for the ritual. From her research, she knew that the ritual would accept any ‘enemy,’ so it didn’t have to be Harry. They just wanted it to be the one who caused Voldemort’s downfall to be the one to bring him back. A weird twisted sense of justice and revenge. Fortunately, her Polyjuice Potion disguise was still going strong and they seemed none the wiser. She had done some tweaks to the recipe so she knew she had at least another half-hour or so before the effects wore off.

“She was mine! How could you lose her, you worthless pile of horse shit!” Bellatrix’s face was contorted with fury, her dark eyes burning.

“I-I don’t know… She must have broken through! She is strong!” The Death Eater stammered, curled up in a protective ball on the ground. His mask had fallen off at some point. His thin face was gaunt and his eyes wild and unfocused as the effects of the curse coursed through his body.

“You call yourself a pureblood? You are a fucking disgrace, you worthless nitwit!” Bellatrix roared “You were bested by a halfbreed! If that’s what you are against a little girl, then let’s see how you hold up against a grown woman then...” she raised her wand and pointed it at him to curse him but was interrupted.

“Enough Bellatrix, we have more important issues at hand. Our Lord awaits.” Malfoy chided.

Bellatrix instantly calmed at the thought of Voldemort, but her eyes had lost none of their anger. She quickly shoved her wand back into its holster, her lips twitching as she tried to breathe through her fury. “Of course.” She glared at McNair again. “I’ll deal with you later.”

The tortured Death Eater gulped but got shakily to his feet, eyes downcast and trembling slightly.

The robed Death Eaters got back into position around the cauldron again and started their chanting. Wormtail stepped forward and deposited Voldemort into the bubbling liquid.

“Bone of the Father, unknowingly given.” They chanted and Wormtail waved his wand. There was a loud cracking sound from inside the mausoleum and a leg bone came soaring through the air. The concoction hissed and steamed when the bone was added.

“Flesh of the Servant, willingly sacrificed,” Wormtail raised his wand again and in one swift movement he sliced his right hand off and it dropped into the cauldron. The concoction had taken on the stench of rotting flesh and Hermione fought the urge to throw up.

“Blood of the Enemy, forcibly taken.” Wormtail approached her slowly, pulling out a silver dagger from his pocket. Her heart was hammering hard in her chest as he reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling it toward him. He dug the knife tip into the soft flesh of her forearm and sliced deep. She screamed out in pain as blood gushed out of the wound, her eyes clenched shut. She forced them open to watch, she didn’t want to miss something but her head was swimming in pain. The rat carefully tipped the dagger over the cauldron and flicked off three drops of blood.

“The Dark Lord riseth. His glorious reign is now. He will purge the world of the unworthy. He will cleanse us of the wicked and the usurpers. He will bring about the age of glory to the pure. The Dark Lord riseth.” The Death Eaters were chanting repeatedly as the mixture turned blood red and started to boil rapidly.

Hermione struggled against the body binding curse holding her in position, but since Fleur’s escape they had doubled the strength of her binds and there was no moving this time.

After a few more seconds the liquid began rising into the air, starting to morph into a slightly-humanoid shape. 

The Death Eaters chanted louder and with more vigor.

Hermione watched with wide eyes as the liquid continued to boil and roil and morph into a recognizable form. The cauldron had dissipated into a fine black mist that swirled up around Voldemort’s body, shrouding him in long black robes as the man took a solid form and his feet touched down.

Voldemort stood still and silent for several moments, taking deep breaths through the snake-like slits where his nose once was. He reached up to touch his face and opened his bright red eyes with a satisfied exhale. _He was back._

Bellatrix instantly dropped to her knees, prostrating herself in front of her Dark Lord. “Master…” she held up his wand for him in one hand, her other clutched the hem of his robes with reverence, sobbing hysterically. She acted like she worshipped the ground he walked on. It made Hermione’s gut twist. It was so different from the dark witch’s usual behavior, she found it rather unnerving. She didn’t think the woman was capable of love or feelings, but it was clear she felt something for the twisted dark wizard.. The other four Death Eaters stood still, their heads bowed in respect. Wormtail was cowering behind the statue of Death.

“Ahhhhh…” Voldemort’s voice was high and cruel as he turned to face the four standing Death Eaters, ignoring the woman at his feet other than to take his wand back. “Thirteen years… I find myself disappointed. None of you tried to find me. None of you came to my aid. You call yourself my loyal followers. But where were you? You don’t deserve to wear those!” Voldemort screeched, waving his wand and ripping the silver masks off the three masked Death Eaters. McNair’s was still on the ground from when it had fallen off during Bellatrix’s torture session.

“We never abandoned you, our commitment never faltered. My Lord! This face is my true mask… one I am forced to put on every day so that I may serve the cause… hiding in plain sight… the sacrifices we have had to make to ensure your return. Our loyalty never wavered, My Lord.” Lucius Malfoy looked up hopefully. Voldemort fixed him with a fiery red glare, causing him to shrink in on himself.

“You speak the words but your actions tell me otherwise, Malfoy.” Voldemort sneered “My dear Bellatrix here,” the woman in question sobbed at the mention of her name, “Has been a prisoner almost as long as me and yet in her short months of freedom she sought me out and tended to me. She has done more than any of you ever have!” 

The Death Eaters cowered and Wormtail emerged from his hiding place. “I returned…” 

“Out of fear, not loyalty.” Voldemort said cooly. “Still… you have offered great sacrifice to return me. Hold out your arm.”

Wormtail held out his right arm, and with a flourish of Voldemort’s wand a silver hand appeared on the end of the bloody stump. “Thank you, My Lord, thank you.” The cowardly wizard retreated back to the shadows, testing his new hand out.

“The time is here, we must start gather the faithful and loyal… A new and glorious day is on the horizon and we must prepare ourselves.”

“What of the boy?” Bellatrix looked over at Harry. 

“Ah, Harry… Potter.” Voldemort sneered as he spoke the name. “The Boy Who Lived… made famous by lies…” He moved slowly over to where Hermione was suspended. 

Hermione’s heart was pounding as the Dark Lord was bearing down on her. She did her best to keep her face calm but she knew it was a losing battle.

Voldemort was mere inches from her face now, so close that she could feel his breath on her skin. If she wasn’t in a full body bind she would have shuddered. 

“How is it that a mere babe with no extraordinary magical talent defeated me you ask? Well let me tell you. It wasn’t your power that kept you alive all those years ago. No. It was your mother’s love. When she sacrificed herself for her only son, she provided you with a sort of shield. I couldn’t touch you. But now that I have been restored with your blood, I can touch you now.” Voldemort punctuated the last words to emphasize his point. He slowly held up a slender pale finger and pressed it to her forehead, right on the scar.

Hermione remembered that Harry had said it was the most excruciating pain he had ever felt, so she did her best acting and yelled and screamed as if it were the end of the world.

Voldemort sneered and laughed, high and cruel, enjoying ‘torturing’ her. “Weak. You are so weak… But now that mummy’s not here to save you, let us finish what we started, shall we? A duel! Yes, a duel! So the world will know that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived is just that… a boy… who lived a little while but can die like everyone else. That there was nothing special about the famous Harry Potter. That in the end, Harry Potter begged for a death... and I, being the merciful Lord that I am willingly obliged your request.” He waved his wand and negated the spell holding Hermione in place.

Hermione fell to the ground with a thud, breathing hard.

“Pick up your wand, boy!” Voldemort screamed. “Dumbledore has taught you to duel, yes? First, we bow.” 

Hermione grabbed her wand and stood but refused to bow to Voldemort, glaring at him with her wand pointed at him.

“Come, come… we mustn’t forget our manners… I said… BOW TO ME!” Voldemort hit her with the Imperious curse, which she tried to fight but given how much energy she had already used, she was not able to throw the curse and she felt her body bend at the waist against her will.

“Crucio!” 

Pain jolted through her body and she spasmed uncontrollably. She felt as if a million pins punctured her skin simultaneously while her body was burning from the inside and out.

“Better boy. Now… Get up. I want to see the look on your eyes when I kill you. I want to see your light fade!”

Hermione got to her feet “You’ll never win, not while I’m around…” And in a flash, she Disapparated on the spot. She could still hear Voldemort’s anguished scream as she traveled through space, stretched and pulled like putty.

Hermione reappeared in the Headmaster’s office, a little disoriented at first but she turned and saw him sitting quietly at his desk, sucking on what looked like a lollipop. “Well?”

“He’s back,” she said flatly. “Voldemort suspects nothing. As far as he knows, Harry escaped from the graveyard.”

Dumbledore simply tilted his chin slightly. ”Good.”

“Thank you for holding the anti-Apparition wards open for me, by the way. How did you know?”

“Well, when you didn’t return with Miss Delacour, I had to assume that things hadn’t gone quite according to plan, so I thought it was time to initiate our back up plan.”

Hermione nodded, “How did we do with the rest?”

“As of twenty minutes ago, Miss Delacour is safe. The imposter has been apprehended and returned to Azkaban and the real Mad-Eye Moody has been rescued. Miss Skeeter was there to witness the entire incident, so you can expect a full story about her deep undercover work that revealed that Barty Crouch Jr. seemingly returned from the dead and of Voldemort’s return, leaving Harry out of the spotlight. Poor boy thinks he got hit on the head by Devil’s Snare… Good thinking, using Dobby to help. The little elf did a good job making it look convincing. I forgot there is one other in Hogwarts who is willing to do whatever it takes to keep that boy out of harm’s way. You have done well, Miss Granger. I will inform Harry of Voldemort's return and keep him safe next year while you take care of what you need to do.”

“I think I can help with that.”

“Oh? You have a plan? Well, Miss Granger, I am all ears.”

“I’ll tell you later, right now I think there is somewhere we both need to be.” Hermione felt her face starting to morph back into her own visage as the effects of the Polyjuice were wearing off. “I suspect I have a very angry Veela on my hands.”

A smile spread across Dumbledore’s thin lips, his watery blue eyes twinkled. “Right you are…” He pulled the _Tempus Novus_ from under his robes. “Thank you for returning this to me, by the way. While I had thought about keeping it, I think it best I destroy this version. It has served its purpose now and it is too dangerous to have two versions of it. The original is safely held within Fawkes.”

Hermione nodded and headed for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob and turned back to him. “I can’t believe we actually did it…” 

“Did what? Good night,” Dumbledore winked and turned his attention back to his lollipop as the brunette witch slipped out of the quiet office with a soft chuckle.


	24. Chapter 24

Hermione cringed as she sat on Fleur’s bed as the blonde unleashed a flurry of words upon her. The Veela was absolutely furious, pacing around her room in the Beauxbatons Carriage. She was angrily muttering a mix of her three languages, gesticulating wildly with her arms to emphasize just how mad she was at the situation. At least five minutes had passed and she hadn’t been able to make out a single word that the irate woman was saying, but the point was clearly made. 

“How could you do that to me? You had disguised yourself as Harry the entire time? Why didn’t you tell me?” Fleur finally reverted to just using English.

“Because I thought you would try to stop me. The same way Harry would have tried to stop us if he knew what was going on.”

“Of course I would have! You mean too much to me ‘Ermione!”

“I’m so sorry, Fleur. I never meant for it to go like this, but as soon as we got there and the Death Eaters were waiting for us I knew our plan wasn’t going to work! And then Bellatrix showed up and the things she was talking about… I just…” 

Hermione shuddered as everything caught up with her and she felt herself start to spiral. In the graveyard she had too much to worry about than let herself really react to seeing Bellatrix in the flesh. But now that they were safe, the floodgate of emotions opened. 

Her heart raced and she felt like she was drowning in quicksand inside and out. The world seemed to squeeze itself in on her, constricting and suffocating her as her panic attack flared. She reached for her left arm and squeezed it hard. It had been several months since her last PTSD flare up but that didn’t make them any easier to bear. She knew there were plenty more to come, especially knowing that Bellatrix was back.

 _‘She’s not here. You’re safe. Fleur’s safe.’_ She chanted like a mantra in her mind, clutching her arm tight, her nails digging in. The wound was still tender from where Wormtail had cut her and the pain gave her something else to focus on, and brought her back from her darkness. She decided to heal herself the Muggle way and magicked sutures to close the wound. She wanted to bear the scar, though she would glamour it away so no one saw. She wanted it as a physical reminder of the sacrifices made and what was at stake. 

“I saw my chance to get you to safety and I took it.” The Golden Girl finally managed once she felt herself regain control. 

Fleur softened when she realized what was happening and moved to comfort her mate. She sat next to Hermione and gently tried to pry her hand off of her arm to get her to stop hurting herself. Even though she was concerned, she was still pissed off, but her voice was much gentler than before when she spoke again. 

“I know… That doesn’t make it any better. Even if told with good intentions, it was still a lie. If it hadn’t gone to shit would you have ever told me that it was you?” Fleur continued to rub small circles on the back of Hermione’s hand.

“I would have, I swear! I just… needed you not to know at the time. All you needed to know was that you and Harry were going to the graveyard together and that’s what happened. It just wasn’t the actual Harry that went. I only wanted to keep you and Harry safe and I couldn’t do that sitting in the stands!”

“But what about your safety? Damn it, ‘Ermione! What if you had been hurt?” Fleur jumped to her feet and waved her arms again, her frustration surging again at the thought of Hermione in danger. Her Veela has been surprisingly quiet this time, letting Fleur handle the situation. “I understand you wanted to help, but you lied and manipulated me! And then you sent me away and left yourself there!”

“If I hadn’t sent you away, there was a very high chance that neither of us walked away. I knew that they wouldn’t kill me, at least not until the ritual was complete. And I knew that Voldemort would want to do it himself. And the timeline is safe. Voldemort is back and he thinks Harry escaped. Just like last time.”

Fleur huffed angrily and sat down at her desk, facing away from Hermione, leaning forward on her elbows, her head resting in her hands. “How could you put yourself in such danger! How do you think I would feel if you got hurt or worse?! Don’t you understand what you mean to me? The thought of losing you…”

“Oh, so only you are allowed to take the risks in this? That’s not fair either, Fleur! Did you honestly think that I would allow my mate and my best friend to put themselves in danger without trying to do something?” Hermione shot back, her own anger starting to rise. She had at first felt extremely guilty about lying to Fleur but now she was having a hard time keeping her own temper at bay. She did not like the idea of being treated as incapable, a damsel in distress to be saved. She had endured so much during the War, she wasn’t made of glass anymore. She would not easily break.

Fleur opened her mouth to speak but Hermione kept going.

“You speak as though the cost is one sided. I can’t lose you either, Fleur! I did what I had to do to ensure you both were safe! What if I hadn’t done what I had done and you were taken? How do you think I would feel knowing you were out there somewhere suffering at the hands of that madwoman? I know what she would have done to you! I endured hours of torture and it almost broke me. The thought of you being with her for God knows how long… Even if I didn’t know it was her that took you, the uncertainty of not knowing where you were or what happened to you? It would be devastating!”

“You should have at least told me.” The blonde sat up and turned in her chair to face her again. Her eyes looked a little calmer but they were still very emotional.

“If I had told you, you would have tried to stop me. You already said you would just a moment ago and it’s been heavily implied since we first started planning for the Third Task. You kept saying it was your choice to go to the graveyard. That you would be the one to help Harry. You didn't even consider me as an option and left me out of the plan! I’m not defenseless and I’m not incapable, but you sidelined me from the beginning.”

Fleur opened her mouth to retort, then closed it and looked away, at least she had the decency to look ashamed.

“I’ll admit it was more than a little shitty of me to go behind your back. I know you’ll do anything to protect me. And I’ll do the same for you. On that I think we can both agree.”

“That is true.” Fleur nodded, her breathing starting to even out as her anger slowly dissipated as they started to reach a common ground. “And I can see how that would make you feel thinking that I would try to stop you. It’s not that I don’t value you or underestimate your ability. I just… I can’t imagine life without you now. And I’m sorry that I overreacted. I was just so mad and hurt by it, I didn’t behave well.”

“I know… and you have every right to be upset. But I also ask that in the future you trust me and let me help you. And if you can do that, then I promise to be fully forthcoming. But this can’t go on one-sided. We need to learn how to work together toward the common goal, not distracting ourselves trying to keep each other safe or worrying what the other is up to. We can’t allow ourselves to be dictated by fear or doubt. This was just the beginning. It’s going to get worse and if we can’t figure it out, we’re not going to be successful.”

Fleur sighed and stood up from the desk, moving across the room to join Hermione on the bed. “You are too wise, ma belle.” She tentatively put a hand out for her mate to take if she wanted it. They were both still coming down from very tense emotions and she wasn’t sure if Hermione would want physical contact again. 

Hermione smiled and slipped her hand into Fleur’s, interlocking their fingers and giving it a light squeeze. “I think we need to do better at trusting one another. I think we need to do better in trusting us.”

“Agreed. Full transparency from here on out? No more secrets, no more half-truths? And if something comes up we talk through it?”

Hermione nodded “We’re in this together.”

“Together.” Fleur agreed and leaned in to kiss her properly, any residual tension they were feeling melting away. She leaned down on the bed, pulling Hermione down on top of her as they embraced. 

Their kisses soon gave way to tired cuddling, neither willing to let go but they were too exhausted from the day’s events to do much other than just lay there together. She wrapped her arms around the brunette witch, loving the way it felt to have her weight on her, their chests pressed together, feeling their hearts beating.

“Fleur?” Hermione pulled away after a few minutes and propped herself up on her elbows to gaze down at the blonde beneath her. Her chocolatey eyes had lost their hardness from earlier and they were back to their usual warm state, full of love and curiosity.

“Oui, ma belle?” Fleur tilted her head back to get a better look at her mate, showing she was listening and giving her full attention.

“What happened when you got back? How did you get by Moody?”

“Well, first I panicked because I had no damn clue what the hell had just happened. And then I saw Harry sitting in the medical tent. How did you manage that by the way?”

“Oh, I got a house elf to help. Dobby is particularly fond of Harry after he set him free from the Malfoys in our second year.”

“Ah, yes, Dobby… Gabrielle is very fond of him as well. She speaks often of his unusual fashion sense and odd jokes. I think he sneaks her cookies.”

“That sounds like him… Well, I knew that Dobby would help me with whatever I needed if it meant keeping Harry safe. So I intercepted Harry as he was heading down to the Task and knocked him out with a short-term sleeping draught I slipped into some juice. Dobby kept watch on him from a safe spot and when he started to come back around, he Disapparated him into the maze and made it look like the Devil’s Snare got him. That way Harry had a little memory of what happened inside, but also an excuse for him not to remember much else.”

“You clever witch.” Fleur giggled and tilted her chin up to kiss Hermione quickly before settling back on her bed. 

“It’s been known to happen.” Hermione chuckled and kissed her back “Okay, your turn. Moody.”

“So after I spoke with Harry in the tent, Moody strongly persuaded me with a wand to my back to come with him and took me to his office. But I was expecting something like this, of course. And I saw that the Skeeter woman was in her beetle form and hanging about on the wall, so I made sure to have Crouch talk all about the plans for the graveyard and Voldemort’s return. It really wasn’t difficult to get him to start monologuing and oversharing information. People are much more willing to tell you their plans when they think they have the upper hand. Pride and arrogance.” 

Hermione chuckled thinking that was exactly what had happened with Voldemort. Instead of just killing her, he wanted to make a display of his power and actually gave her the chance she needed to escape. She was glad that she had discussed Apparition as a backup escape route in place with Dumbledore.

“Anyway, once he had said enough, I simply hexed the living shit out of him and released the real Moody. Dumbledore, Snape and some other professors came running to help but I had the situation perfectly under control.” Fleur beamed up smugly. 

“Clever witch.” Hermione smiled and laid back down on the soft mattress, curling with her back to Fleur, who eagerly rolled over and conformed her body to fit around her, draping a long slender arm protectively about her waist. 

Fleur burrowed her nose into the back of Hermione’s neck, her scent soothing her. She didn’t mind that the unruly curls were tickling her face. This was the comfort she needed after thinking she had just lost her mate. Hermione was safe in her arms.

“So… Your Patronus changed? The Gryffindor Lion?” Hermione’s voice broke the silence.

“Oui, it used to be a Harpy Eagle. But it seems that you have had quite the effect on me.”

Hermione smiled softly “I wonder.” She reached for her wand and cast her corporeal Patronus. A silvery lioness bounded forth, pacing around the room. 

A moment later it was joined by Fleur’s and the two ethereal lions butted heads in greeting, rubbing their faces together. 

“Well, it’s a little more impressive than my old otter, though he was very cute.” The brunette chuckled softly as she watched the big cats dissipate into thin air. She lay quietly for a few minutes, mulling over the day. There was so much left to do. And there were already some worrying changes to this timeline, particularly Bellatrix’s early escape from Azkaban. How were they going to get the Horcruxes with her on the loose? Especially if the dark witch was searching for her and Fleur specifically?

“I can feel your brain moving.” Fleur’s sleepy voice whispered from behind her.

“Sorry, I can’t help it. I was just wondering what happens next. Now that he’s back… it gets really tricky.”

“Mmm… true. But we know he’s not going to be active right away. We have a little time. Speaking of which, I was thinking. After this, I must go back to France, at least for part of the summer. Would you like to come with me?”

“You mean that?” Hermione sat up and twisted around to look at her girlfriend. 

“Of course, I would love for you to meet the rest of my family. And my home is possibly the safest place for us to be with everything going on and while we figure out our plan. Our protective wards rival those of Hogwarts. We’ll have access to move everything you think we will need and I’m sure we can pull a few strings to get the rest.”

“I’d love that! I’ll have to stop by to see my parents for a bit. I’d like for you to meet them, too, if you’re comfortable coming to Muggle London.”

“As long as I am with you, it will be perfect. I would like to meet your parents as well.”

« Fleur! Are you in there!? » Evangeline shouted as she pounded on the door. « Maxime is looking for you! Everyone is celebrating but we’re missing the guest of honor! »

« Oui, I’ll be out soon. » Fleur called back, clearly annoyed at being disturbed.

“What did Evangeline say?” Hermione sat up slowly, reluctant to leave Fleur’s embrace.

“They’re looking for me.” Fleur sighed “I forgot that I’m the Triwizard Champion. Speaking of which, I’ve waited 8 months to say this, but I told you so.” 

“Told me what?”

“That I would win because I’m the best.” She smirked and planted a soft kiss to Hermione’s forehead and rolled off the bed.

“Oh you cocky git!” Hermione rolled her eyes and got up as well.

A couple Pepper-up Potions and cleaning and scourging spells later and they emerged into a sea of rambunctious celebrations.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Blimey, Hermione! I can’t believe Dumbledore’s letting you take both your O.W.L.s _and_ N.E.W.T.s this summer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you next year.” Harry was trying to smile but Hermione could tell that he was feeling rather glum about the prospect of not having his friend around. 

The pair were sitting together in a train compartment on the Hogwarts Express heading back to London. The week after the Tournament ended had been a whirlwind of Hogwarts final exams and they hadn’t really had a chance to catch up with one another. 

Fleur and the rest of the foreign students had departed the day after the tournament for their respective schools to complete their own school graduation requirements. She and the Veela communicated each night with their marbles, but it wasn’t the same. She hadn’t realized how much she had gotten used to having the blonde around. Being able to touch her hand or stroke her face or kiss her senseless. She wondered if her emptiness stemmed from their growing bond or just the fact that she missed her girlfriend. Probably both.

“I know, It’s going to be weird not being here. But I took the seventh year classes this year and it doesn’t make sense for me to come back just to retake them. I’m confident that I will pass.” Hermione scratched absentmindedly behind Crookshanks’ ears as she stared out the window, watching the landscape rush by.

“Oh, I’m sure you will. You _are_ the brightest witch of your age, after all. I think that you could save the world if you put your mind to it. So what are you gonna do then? You’re too young to get a job.”

Hermione snorted at the irony of his innocent comment and turned back to face him. “Dumbledore says he can help me get an internship so I get some on-the-job training. It will keep me busy for sure.”

“Wicked! You’ll write to me, won’t you? I want to know about your adventures! But be safe and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“That’s not saying much Harry. What is there that you _wouldn’t_ do?"

"Kiss Malfoy." Harry deadpanned.

“Fair.” Hermione agreed with a chuckle and reassuring smile “You won’t need to worry about me, I’m sure it will probably just be paper pushing or something basic but I’ll let you know. I mean, they wouldn’t give a 16 year old any real responsibilities, right?”

“Good, you can’t expect me to worry about school if I’m too busy worrying about you, too.” Harry sat back in his seat, deep in thought for a moment. “So, what do you reckon? Do you think Voldemort is back?” he asked innocently. 

“Yeah, I do. Based on what Dumbledore said, I think that there are dark times ahead and we need to be prepared for anything. When times are uncertain, it’s best to have good people around you. Your friends and loved ones give you strength. Give you something to fight for, you know? I’m sorry I won’t be there for you next year, but I’ll be there in spirit, I’ll always look out for you. You’re my brother, always have been, always will be.” She smiled softly.

“And you’re my sister.” Harry gave her a quick squeeze.

Hermione smiled and hugged him quickly. “This is one thing Voldemort doesn’t have. He doesn’t know love or what it is like to care for anyone other than himself. The only thing he values is his power and the fear associated with it. He thinks feelings are weak. But it’s our relationships that help build us up, protect us, and help us become the people we are. He’s just miserable and empty. Loveless.”

“Wow… that’s like really deep, Hermione. Speaking of love..." Harry laughed softly and shoved her with his elbow.

“Oh, shove off you,” Hermione grinned and shoved him back. “What about it?”

“You and Fleur are still going strong?”

“Yes, we are, thank you. I’m going to miss her while I’m at my internship, but she’s got responsibilities back to France.” Hermione lied, but it was best if people thought that Fleur was abroad. It was safer that way. “What about you and Evangeline?”

Harry shook his head softly “Nah, just better off as friends. She’s nice and all, just not meant to be more, you know?”

“I get that… Some people are just meant to be friends. Speaking of which, I’m really glad you’re my friend, Harry Potter.” Hermione grinned and shoved him back.

“Back at you, Hermione Granger.” 

“Yeah, just took a giant troll trying to kill us, but we got there. Now I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” Hermione laughed at the memory. 

“Hey guys…” 

There was a knock on the door to the compartment. Neville stuck his head in, Luna was standing next to him clutching a copy of the Quibbler. “Do you mind if we join you? Everywhere else is full.”

“Not at all! Come on in!” Harry smiled brightly and gestured to the empty seats.

“Hmm… your head is surprisingly clear of wrackspurts today, Harry.” Luna hummed dreamily. Her radish earrings bounced as she tilted her head from side to side trying to see the invisible creatures.

“Ermmm… thanks, Luna.” Harry nervously rubbed the back of his neck. 

“So, what is everyone doing for the summer holiday?” Neville opened up the conversation.

The four fell into light conversation for the rest of the trip, laughing and joking, and sharing sweets once the snack trolley came by. 

It made Hermione’s heart feel full seeing Harry with people that she knew would become some of his closest and most loyal friends. She didn’t mind that he and Ron had tried to mend their friendship, it was his prerogative. But she knew it was different for them now. Especially since she had made no real effort to reconnect with either Ron or Ginny since the Yule Ball fallout. She knew that both Weasleys would grow up in time and believed that they would both have Harry’s back, but she couldn’t ignore or forgive the way Ron had treated her for her relationship with Fleur. But Neville and Luna were good people and she was happy they were in Harry’s life. It would definitely make things easier on him in the years to come.

She smiled and stared out the window again, deep in thought. Whatever happened to her and Fleur, at least he would be fine as long as he had those two in his corner.

The train pulled into Platform 9 ¾ a couple hours later and soon the platform was swimming with people. Everyone jostled about, trying to grab their trunks and belongings from the cargo holds while finding their families or saying goodbye to friends. 

Hermione was late to exit the train, having to wrestle Crookshanks into his carrier was never an easy task. By the time she got off onto the platform, the crowd had died down significantly. Once she got her trunk she looked around, sweeping her gaze slowly across the platform.

“Looking for someone, ma belle?”

“Fleur! You made it!” Hermione gasped and spun around as she saw her blonde girlfriend leaning casually against a brick wall. It had only been a week since she had seen her but it felt like months and she looked flawlessly beautiful in every way. She set down Crookshanks' carrier on her trunk and moved toward her girlfriend.

The French witch was sporting simple jeans and a black v-neck shirt, looking rather Muggle and inconspicuous. She had a small handbag but otherwise was accessory-less. Her hair was styled in a messy French braid that looked perfect and effortless. She had a smile that reached her eyes and could light up the world. 

“But of course, I could not miss it. I could not possibly go a moment more without you. I missed you, ma belle.” Fleur strode over and wrapped herself around the smaller witch, running her fingers through the thick unruly curls as she kissed her good and proper, not caring who saw. It started slow but she quickly moved to deepen the kiss, their lips gliding together slowly but with purpose. Her Veela purring happily at the reunion.

Hermione eagerly held the Veela by the waist, holding her close as they tried to remove any space between them. She had missed those perfectly kissable lips, so soft and full. But eventually oxygen became necessary and the pair reluctantly pulled away. “Wow, if that’s how you greet me after a week, maybe we should…”

“Non, no more being apart.” Fleur quickly interjected “Allow me to help you with your bag, mademoiselle. Since you are underage and therefore clearly incapable of performing magic for yourself.” She teased and waved her wand at Hermione’s trunk and shrunk it down to the size of a lunchbox. She reached down and held it in the same hand with her handbag.

“Oh you just love to point that out, don’t you?” 

“Perhaps. You are sure your parents are fine with me coming? You do not want some time just as a family?”

“Well, honestly we’re not that close anymore. It’s been pretty hard for them with me going off to magic boarding school. They’ve tried to be accepting but they just don’t understand and there’s been a bit of a divide. And I really need you there, just for emotional support. I haven’t seen them in years and the last time I did, I obliviated myself from their memories. This is going to be really hard for me.”

Fleur nodded sadly and kissed Hermione’s temple. “Then there is nowhere I’d rather be.” She led the way to the brick wall separating the magical and muggle worlds clutching Hermione around the waist. Whatever happened next, she knew that they would be okay.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning... If you're not into girl-girl pairings... I'm not sure what you were doing the last 93k words, but it's about to get spicier... so if you're offended, you've got about half a chapter, then avert your eyes. Also, remember that special tag about Fleur? Yeppp...

Hermione stared at the sight of the Delacour Estate. She had never seen such a completely over the top display of opulent grandeur. She knew that Fleur and her family were rich and powerful, but she had never expected something like this. It made her appreciate Fleur even more. The heiress never let her privilege show or flaunted her wealth. Maybe a bit in the first timeline when she was at Hogwarts, but not once she joined the Order and definitely not now. 

The expanse that was the ‘front lawn’ was several acres and had a huge pond and fountain centered with the building in the distance. The lush grass was perfectly trimmed and level. There was a wide earthen walking path that led from the front gate up toward the pond, splitting in both directions around the water feature before merging on the other side and leading to the giant mansion.

There was a maze of pebbled walking paths that branched off of the main path and wove through the front lawn, leading to various sculptures and topiaries on the grounds. The grounds extended to the side and back as far as Hermione could see. She could see orchards and vineyards in the distance as well as several other buildings she couldn't distinguish. A large barn and stables were built closer to the main building and a small herd of horses ran freely across their enclosed pasture. She even saw what looked like a full size Quidditch pitch!

The building itself was designed in classic French style, bright and architecturally complex. It looked like a miniature Palace of Versailles. But not that much smaller, really.

“So… I’m glad we saw my childhood home first. I’d be kind of embarrassed to show you after seeing this… wow. You grew up here?”

Fleur blushed and gripped her hand a little tighter “Please don’t be. Your home was lovely and your parents were very nice. Even if they tortured me.” 

“They didn’t torture you!”

“They poked my mouth with those evil little metal spikes! Repeatedly! It hurt!” The Frenchwoman huffed and pouted at the memory.

“They’re dentists! It’s what they do! You shouldn’t have mentioned that you’d never been to the dentist!”

“I didn’t think it was a problem. I was only speaking the truth when they asked me.”

“It is in Muggle society. Dental hygiene is a big deal. We don’t have magic and can’t just spell ourselves perfect teeth. Even kids go to the dentist, so stop whining you big baby!”

“You subject children to that treatment?!” Fleur was horrified. “Forget Death Eaters, just let the world be run by these dentists! It’s borderline sadistic!”

“Yes and it’s for their own good, too. A brush and floss twice a day keeps the cavities away!”

“Even that sounds like torture.” Fleur rolled her eyes gently and led them toward the gate, quickly dispelling a small opening in the wards to admit them passage onto the grounds.

Once they had passed the property boundary, Hermione was startled to realize that there was a shift in the weather and atmosphere inside, the temperature had dropped several degrees and there was also less humidity. Overall it felt like a perfect day, with a sunny sky and gentle breeze. The kind of day that makes you want to breathe deep and just be glad to be there.

“It is beyond ridiculous, I did not realize when I was younger but now it disgusts me. I plan on making some changes once I become leader of the Clan. It is such a waste of resources.” Fleur scoffed at her side.

“And it’s just your family that lives here?”

“Non. While the Delacour clan does live here permanently and the extended family visits often, our home is always open for any Clan family that might need assistance or if they just want to visit. Evangeline and her family stop by often during summer holidays. They like the Mediterranean weather we enjoy and go to the beach. And we serve as a refuge in case of emergencies. And all of the grounds staff and employed house elves live here if they choose.”

Hermione nodded “So, it has its purpose. And your family uses it for good!” 

“Oui, but I feel like there’s always more that we could be doing.” Fleur shrugged as they walked along the sod path around the pond.

There was a loud whinny and the sound of galloping hooves approaching, “Brainy! You came!” Gabrielle called out excitedly, riding proudly astride a beautiful young chestnut mare. Her silvery blonde hair flowed freely behind her and bounced slightly as she rocked with the horse’s movements as they approached. Valadarian was flying next to her, his tiny wings spread as he soared through the air, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Brainy?” Hermione raised her eyebrow and Fleur quickly averted her gaze to glare at her sister.

“Gabrielle, what are you doing, little monster?”

“Just waiting for you two slowpokes to get ‘ere. Maman and Papa are eagerly awaiting your arrival. You were taking so long zat I ‘ad time to take Elise out. But now zat you are ‘ere I’ll ‘ead in, too. I’ll see you soon!” The youngest Delacour waved and took off in an easy gallop across the grounds toward the stables.

“Well, shall we?”

Hermione stopped abruptly as the reality of meeting Fleur’s parents for the first time hit her hard. “What’s proper Veela etiquette? Are there any customs I should know about? Am I supposed to bow or curtsy? Do we do the cheek-kiss thing? What if they don't like me? What if they don't think I'm good enough for you?”

“‘Ermione, ma belle. Please, do not fret. You will do fine. And they will love you. Just be yourself and you will be wonderful. You are not alone, I will be there to help if you need, though I do not think you will need it.”

Hermione nodded but was feeling rather uncertain about everything. She had stared Voldemort in the face just over two weeks ago and yet she felt more nervous about this moment. 

Then she saw Fleur’s parents waiting for them and she felt suddenly extremely self conscious. She and Fleur were in Muggle clothes, having come directly from Muggle London after spending a few days with her parents to tell them an update about her education and internship. As expected, Brian and Jean Granger were supportive, but it was clear that they had no idea what that really meant for Hermione. Probably for the best to keep them in the dark. At least things weren’t to the point of needing to Obliviate them again.

At first glance, Madame and Monsieur Delacour were an imposing couple. Both refined, elegant, and poised. They looked like royalty standing in front of the main entry doors in their impeccably tailored robes. And in a sense that’s what they were, at least in Veela society. But as Hermione would soon find out, they were both rather pleasant and kind people. 

Apolline was more serious than her husband and had a stern demeanor. She had a very dry sense of humor and could deliver a perfect deadpan, exactly the personality one would expect from the leader of the French Veela clans. Like her daughters, she was tall and had a slender, athletic build and had stunningly clear blue eyes and thick silvery blonde hair, which she wore up in a twist. Her features were sharp and prominent, giving her a naturally stern appearance that made it seem like she was constantly judging you, even if she was not. In a word, she was intense. 

Hermione chuckled internally. At least she knew that Fleur would age well. Not like that was something she actually cared about. Fleur was beautiful to her no matter what but it seemed that the Veela continued to grow in grace and beauty as they aged. 

Marcel Delacour on the other hand was a bowlful of laughs, the kind that originated deep in his belly and made his body shake. He was extremely light-hearted and joked at everything. He had the kind of personality that made Hermione want to trust him right off the bat and give him a big hug. Which she would not, of course. Unlike his wife, he had dark black hair, peppered with greys, and soft facial features that added to his warmth. His hazel eyes shone bright and a smile always adorned his face, slightly hidden beneath a meticulously groomed beard.

“Maman! Papa!” Fleur called out as they approached and the power couple descended the stairs to greet them. “Zis ees my girlfriend, ‘Ermione Granger. ‘Ermione, my parents, Apolline and Marcel Delacour.”

Hermione was mildly taken aback to hear Fleur’s natural accent come out, not her over the top dramatized one she had adopted at Hogwarts. When she spoke it was a mix of accent and her ‘British’ way of speaking, more relaxed and less formal. She thought actually rather cute and endearing, hearing her in her be so at ease in her comfort zone. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintances, thank you for letting me stay with you, Madame and Monsieur Delacour.” _‘Should I curtsy? Fuck, how do you curtsy? I feel like I should curtsy...’_ Hermione started to panic internally. Fortunately, Apolline saved her from embarrassment and stepped forward to greet her. 

“Enchantee, Mademoiselle Granger. Please, we are family ‘ere, call me Apolline. We ‘ave ‘eard so much about you.” Apolline welcomed her with a quick embrace and a kiss on each cheek. 

“Oh aren’t you just ze sweetest zing!” Marcel did the same but ended his greeting by pulling her into a big hug, squeezing her quickly before letting her go. 

Hermione chuckled and smiled warmly, returning the hug. She briefly caught Fleur’s eye, who simply winked at her and gave her an encouraging smile. 

“Our little flower ‘as not stopped talking about you since she returned from school!” 

“Papa!” Fleur chided, her cheeks turning red. 

Marcel ignored his daughter’s complaint and smiled teasingly at her before continuing. “I was starting to zink you were a figment of ‘er imagination, non? Because eet would be impossible for one so wonderful to exist. ‘Oh, my ‘Ermione ees so intelligent. So kind and gentle. She ees brave beyond measure…’ Yet ‘ere you are een ze flesh!”

“Dear, stop embarrassing Fleur,” Apolline admonished her husband but still gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I zink I regret bringing you ‘ere after all!” Fleur pouted but Hermione was loving watching this interaction between the normally proud heiress and her father. It was so natural and effortless. Genuine.

“Brainy!” Gabrielle’s quick shout was all the warning given before Hermione was all but tackled by the tiny ball of energy. _Well, she knew which side of the family she got that from._

Marcel’s laughter boomed across the lawn and Apolline gave a quick disapproving sniff at her youngest’s antics but smiled nonetheless. She was glad to see her daughters so happy. Because of their thrall, it was hard for Veela to make genuine friendships outside of their Clan, especially with non-Veela. 

“Come, you must be tired from your journey.” Apolline led the group into the expansive entry hall. “Fleur, why don’t you show ‘Ermione around and ‘elp her get settled een. We can reconvene for dinner een two ‘ours. I zink zat your aunts and cousins might come later, but zat ees not confirmed yet. Zey are very curious to meet ze Golden Girl zat ‘as stolen my daughter’s ‘eart.”

Hermione blushed bright and did her best to maintain eye contact. She was grateful that Fleur came to her rescue.

“Oui, Maman.” Fleur took her by the hand and led her up the grand staircase to the second floor. 

Somehow the Delacour mansion was even more impressive on the interior. Hermione has never been in a palace, but this was how she imagined one would look. 

The interior was open with tall ceilings, the walls a soft whitish grey to reflect the natural light streaming in from all the windows. The upper trim of the vaulted ceilings were ornately carved like flowers and accented with gold filigree. There was a large amount of art in elaborate frames decorating the walls. Statues and suits of armor were spread throughout the halls. There were random sitting lounges placed periodically, with chairs and tables so guests could look out across the grounds while reading a book or having tea. 

The second floor was similar to the main level in terms of layout and decor, but the floors were polished dark hardwood rather than white marble tile. A wide red rug spanned the length of the hall, leaving only a few feet of wood exposed on either side. It reminded Hermione of pictures of fancy red carpet events in the Muggle world. 

Fleur pointed out various things along the way but they eventually came to a stop in front of a set of tall double doors. 

“Zis ees my room. You’re welcome to stay ‘ere or I can show you to a guest suite. Whichever you’re comfortable wizz.”

“Won’t your parents think that’s inappropriate?”

Fleur chuckled “Non, zey were actually extremely surprised to learn zat we ‘aven’t ‘ad sex yet. I told you ze Veela are extremely physical and affectionate. We are not uncomfortable talking about such zings wizzin ze family. Intimacy ees not taboo like een ze wizarding or Muggle worlds.”

Hermione blushed furiously knowing that Fleur’s parents were aware of their sex life, or lack thereof. “Oh… uh…”

“Eet ees fine, ma belle. I can tell zat you are uncomfortable wizz ze prospect and I shall show you to your room later. I’m sorry if eet implied zat I was looking for more by wanting to share my bed wizz you. I assure you zat was not ze case unless you want eet to be. I just like being close to you, your presence comforts me and puts me at ease. Zere ees still much I need to tell you about our bonding process.” Fleur smiled. If she was disappointed, she didn’t show it. “But first…” she pushed the doors open, swinging them inward. 

Hermione gasped when she entered Fleur’s room. It was huge. The walk-in closet alone was bigger than her room back home. There was fancy furniture and the biggest bed Hermione had ever seen, covered by a fluffy royal blue duvet and a ridiculous number of throw pillows. Like the rest of the ‘house,’ it was bright and designed to capture the natural light from the tall windows. But what struck Hermione the most was that an entire wall was dedicated to books. She knew Fleur was well-read like her but she never realized it was to the extent that she had her own personal library. 

Realizing what Hermione was looking at, Fleur led her over to the bookshelves. “As I’ve told you before, my child’ood was remarkably lonely. I do not ‘ave Gabrielle's magnetic personality and I detested ze attention I got from my Veela nature. So I often ‘id een ‘ere, losing myself een ze stories.”

Hermione nodded and looked around while Fleur busied herself with unpacking her travel clothes from her enchanted handbag. After a few minutes, she turned back to Fleur, who was now sitting on her bed watching her curiously. 

“You know, I wouldn’t want to be an imposition on your staff. It makes no sense to set me up in a room by myself when honestly, I’d probably come sneaking back here anyway. If you’re okay with it of course.”

Fleur’s eyes lit up brightly when she realized what Hermione was saying and she nodded enthusiastically. 

Hermione snorted to herself and set her travel size trunk on the ground next to the door to the closet, waving her wand to return it and its contents to normal size. “So, tell me more about the rest of our bonding.”

Fleur patted the bed next to her and waited for the brunette witch to join her before starting her talk. As she spoke, she reached over and rested her hand on top of her mate’s, not willing to go any length of time without touching.

“Well, as I’ve told you, our bonding began when you accepted eet and kissed me. Zat was our spiritual bond. Our physical bond ees just as eet sounds. Our first time having intercourse, I shall bite you and you return ze bite. Zat completes ze mating bond and from zen we are officially a mated pair. Last bond will form over time as our magic continues to grow togezzer.”

“Ah, so mind, body and soul?”

“Oui, exactly. Ze scars of ze mating bites will not be visible to any non-Veela and ees only zere to let ze ozzers know zat we are spoken for, but zey do not know by whom. If we want, we can ‘ave a ceremony to announce eet, or we can keep eet to ourselves and just tell people we choose. ‘Owever, I suggest ze latter for ze time being. I would like to tell my immediate family zough. Zey will be ‘appy for us and not question why we are mates when you look underage. But ze ozzers in ze Clan might wonder.” 

Hermione nodded slowly “I think it’s best we keep it to a minimum. Should we tell them soon?”

“I give you permission to tell zem when you feel comfortable.” Fleur smiled, her eyes swimming with happiness.

“And maybe once we save the world from destruction and I’m physically 18 again we can do the ceremony. But until then, keep it simple. I even have a reason for why your Veela recognized me if your parents ask.”

“And what might zat be?” Fleur gently rubbed her thumb across her knuckles.

“Well, I’m a time traveler of course!” Hermione beamed.

Fleur sputtered “ _What!?_ ”

“Well, when I was in my third year, I used the Time Turner to attend extra classes and that did something to mess with my age.” Hermione shrugged. “There is no record of anyone using a Time Turner for an extended period of time like I did, so it’s not a stretch to think that it would mess with age over a year’s time. Though I never tried it out in the previous timeline to confirm.”

Fleur thought about that for a moment “I zink zat could work… as you said, zere ees no study of ze effects of long term use. I zink zat ees entirely realistic. Does zis mean you are actually 20? So old!”

“You’re still older than me, you git!” Hermione grinned and kissed her quickly before tackling Fleur to the bed, tickling her sides.

“Non, non, non!” Fleur laughed and tried to wiggle away. Even though she was much stronger than Hermione and could have overpowered her, she allowed herself to be teased.

The pair fell away after a few more moments, both laughing and breathing hard. Hermione turned on her side, her head propped up on a fist and looked at her girlfriend, who mirrored her position, both casually reclined on the huge bed. Soft chocolate brown met cerulean blue and for a few silent moments they just stared at one another. 

“Hey, Fleur?”

“Oui, ma belle?”

“Why do you hide yourself?”

Fleur paused for a moment and worried at her lip. She looked away, her gaze becoming distant, almost sad. “Because I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”

“But it’s a part of you and I already told you that I accept you in every way.”

“I know you do and I am still amazed by zat every day…” Fleur sighed and looked back at her but kept her gaze slightly averted, focusing on her lips instead of her eyes, “per’aps eet ees more because I am not comfortable wizz eet zen. I like ze rest of my body… but when I see eet… eet just makes me feel… I understand why I ‘ave eet, but eet just… exists zere, not doing anyzzing. I don’t really find anyzzing good about eet.”

“I can understand that. Gender identity is complicated, and I’m here if you want to talk about it. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to hide around me. But I will say I am rather curious about it.”

Fleur’s eyes flashed up to meet hers, “You are?”

“God yes! Ever since you first showed me… well, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it once or twice…”

“Why didn’t you say anyzzing?”

“Uh, because we were planning for Voldemort’s return and trying not to die?” Hermione deadpanned, causing the blonde to snort loudly.

“I suppose zat ees a good reason. Well, I guess maybe eet ees time zat I start trying to accept myself fully. I can’t give you my all if I am not willing to accept myself first,” Fleur grimaced slightly but waved her hand and dispelled the illusion she had cast over herself.

“Take your time and don’t push yourself. I’m always here for you and support you however you need. We can explore your body together, go at your pace. Maybe we just start with what we are comfortable with and see where it goes?” 

“I understand, I am still scared zat you will change your mind and leave me.” Icy sapphires swam with uncertainty and doubt. It broke her heart to see her usually confident girlfriend look so small.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re my mate and I love you, stubborn Veela and all.” Hermione smiled encouragingly and leaned forward to give her a tender kiss.

“And I love you, mon amour.” Fleur sighed happily when their lips touched, her eyes slipping shut as she melted into the kiss. She reached over and cupped the back of Hermione’s neck, her fingers playing with the fine hairs at her nape, gently pulling her closer. Her Veela had been calm up until this point, but her other side was becoming impatient and demanding. Fleur held her at bay, not wanting to push either of them beyond their comfort levels. The Veela huffed and pouted in the back of her mind but didn’t push it. 

Hermione pulled back, sensing some hesitation “Is everything alright?”

“Oui,” Fleur responded breathily, “Ze Veela ees just excited.”

“Are you okay with this though?”

“Oui… zis ees perfect.”

The Gryffindor nodded and leaned forward again, resuming their kiss. Her hand settled on the dip of Fleur’s waist, causing the blonde to shiver and sigh against her lips. She tentatively parted her lips and flicked her tongue across Fleur’s plump bottom lip.

The French witch immediately parted her lips, granting her access and she slipped her tongue inside without hesitation. She could feel the fingers at the back of her neck tug tighter in her unruly curls which only encouraged her more. 

Hermione was surprised that their tongues did not immediately clash in a fight for dominance, like she was expecting. Instead they moved together like a slow dance, gentle, deliberate and controlled, yet still eager and passionate. She took a deep breath through her nose and deepened their kiss, trying to remove any distance between their mouths and Fleur hungrily responded in kind, her soft moan muffled by their kiss. 

She didn’t realize how much she had wanted this. All of their embraces up to this point had been rather conservative and barely scratched the surface. Even their most 'heated' kiss had still been only lips. But this kiss left them all behind. She felt like her body was on fire and Fleur was both fanning the flames and providing her with relief. She couldn’t get enough. 

They had been through so much and denied themselves that Hermione was willing to relinquish control and just enjoy the moment, letting her instincts take over. She couldn’t deny that she had been thinking about taking the next steps with Fleur, but considering what was happening in the world, their sex life took a back seat. Now they had just a few days of freedom before they got back to work and she wanted to enjoy it for once. And judging by Fleur’s reaction, the part-Veela was in solid agreement with her. This was further than she had ever gone with someone before and she was getting the impression that Fleur was just as inexperienced as she was, which made her feel slightly better. At least they were figuring this out together.

After several minutes, she slowly rolled over, laying flat on her back, pulling the Veela along but also giving her room to move away if she wasn’t comfortable with the shift in position.

Fleur rolled with her, propping herself up on her knees to get situated between her legs then she leaned forward with her elbows at either side of her ribs, her arms looped under her shoulders. She hovered above her, not willing to let their bodies touch yet. Her crystal blue eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with excitement. 

They gazed at each other for a moment, silently communicating with one another, their breath coming hard and erratically. Hermione nodded once and Fleur lowered her face to resume their heated kiss.

The Golden Girl reached around Fleur’s shoulder with one hand and wrapped her fingers into the thick mane of silvery blonde hair, holding it out of the way and relishing in the silky smoothness. The other gently caressed her face, thumb stroking the smooth cheek while her fingers traced the curve of her jaw. The Veela purred and leaned into her hand slightly. 

Fleur’s fingers were tangled into her thick brunette curls, cradling her head up and providing neck support while holding their faces close. Very slowly, she lowered her hips down, sliding her knees back one at a time, now hovering just inches over her in a modified push up position. Just before their bodies touched she pulled away, once again searching for Hermione’s reaction and approval.

“It’s okay, Fleur… I trust you,” She husked, her voice deep and breathy.

Fleur took a deep, steadying breath and lowered herself completely, starting with her chest, her weight coming to rest on top of Hermione’s lithe frame.

Hermione gasped feeling Fleur’s weight on her, pressing her against the mattress. It felt oddly comforting, rather than restricting, even though she would have been fairly powerless to move if she had wanted to. She trusted Fleur and knew that she would move if she asked her to. 

Fleur hesitated a moment, then slowly pressed her the rest of her body down, their cores coming into contact for the first time.

Even through their clothes, Hermione was surprised to feel the bulge in the front of Fleur’s jeans that was making its presence known. Curious, she carefully rocked her hips, causing the blonde to hiss out abruptly. 

“I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed and immediately stopped moving, laying flat on the bed, gazing up with worried eyes.

“Eet ees fine. I wasn’t expecting eet. Eet ees very, mmm, sensitive. But eet felt good, actually.” the blonde admitted with a bright blush. “Would you like to continue?”

The British witch nodded slightly but made no further movements with her body, not wanting to cause her girlfriend any unexpected pain or discomfort. She waited for Fleur to initiate their kissing or whatever she felt comfortable doing.

Their next kiss started off slowly, both a little hesitant, both seemed a little shy about their awkward moment earlier, but those feelings quickly subsided and it heated up quickly.

Fleur instinctively rolled her hips forward, her cock seeking Hermione’s warmth seemingly on its own accord. The friction caused the brunette witch to moan into her mouth, which in turn just excited her more. She started to rock her hips with a little more enthusiasm. Though the pressure on her member was becoming uncomfortable, she was desperate to hear the little noises coming out of her mate’s mouth and determined to make sure they never stopped.

Hermione had never experienced such unbridled want before. She involuntarily whimpered periodically when Fleur hit her at a particularly good angle. Her core felt like it was on fire, desperate for the friction provided by the bulge of Fleur’s cock. She felt her heart flutter wondering what it might feel like to feel her moving against her body with nothing separating them. What it might feel like to have her inside her. She shivered hard at the mere thought. She shifted her hips and rolled them in time with Fleur’s movements. One of her hands found its way down to the hem of Fleur’s shirt and slipped underneath, her fingertips dancing across the taut muscles of her abdomen. 

Fleur groaned deep in her throat when she felt cool fingers on her stomach and sat up on her knees, grasping at her shirt to pull it off.

“Fleurrrrrrrr!” The door swung wide open, revealing a 9 year old part-Veela intruder “OH MY GODDESS PUT A LOCKING SPELL ON YOUR DOOR! You are ze Triwizard Champion! I would zink zat would be easy for you! What ze ‘ell ees _wrong_ wizz you!?! Ugh!” she threw her hands in the air as she made a noise of disgust. 

“Gabrielle I swear ze world ‘ad better be ending for you to interrupt us!” Fleur growled, not trying to mask her frustration.

“Maman sent me to get you and to tell you to cast a silencing spell next time. She says do not be late for dinner.” Gabrielle huffed and snapped the door closed with a loud bang.

“Ze child ees a menace.” Fleur groaned and flopped down on her side.

Hermione wanted to sink into the mattress and die of embarrassment. Once the door was closed, she leaned up, propping herself up on her elbows, her face flushed and her hair sticking out in all directions. Fleur wasn’t looking much better, though she still thought the Veela looked absolutely gorgeous, her eyes almost solid black from her blown pupils and her lips swollen from their intense make out session. And… _oh…_ that was definitely bigger than she remembered it being initially. She blushed an even darker shade of red and averted her eyes for Fleur’s modesty.

“W-we should get going, I don’t want to make a bad first impression with your parents. More so than I apparently have already.”

Fleur sighed “Probably. You may use ze bazzroom first to get ready. I zink I need to change soon or I will lose circulation.”

“Right… err, I’ll be right back then.” Hermione quickly rolled off the bed and scuttled to the bathroom to try to put herself back together.


	26. Chapter 26

Fleur was absolutely humming with energy as she splashed water in her face to try to cool off when it was her turn in the washroom adjoining her bedroom. She had felt comfortable with herself for the first time since she had grown her new appendage as a teen. And it actually felt… okay for once, not something foreign that didn’t belong there. Except for the fact that it was incredibly restricted by her pants, that had hurt a bit and she would have to remember to get her clothes altered.

She couldn’t stop smiling at herself in the mirror. Everything was starting to make sense and come full circle. And it was entirely thanks to Hermione. The level of love and trust they were developing was helping her soothe her own discomfort and overcome her insecurities about herself. She sighed and wondered how she had gotten so lucky. The brunette witch was everything to her. 

She quickly illusioned it away, not wanting to have to explain to her family why she was flying at half mast, although Gabrielle probably already said something. Her sister was such a little shit sometimes. She brushed out her long silvery-blonde locks and adjusted her robes before emerging from the bathroom. She smiled to herself when she saw Hermione sitting at her vanity, desperately trying to tame down her bushy curls. The brunette had changed out of her Muggle clothes and into a set of robes at some point.

“I am sorry about your ‘air, ma belle. I got a little excited. Are you… are you feeling okay? Wizz everyzing? Zat was a little unexpected, I worry eet was too much?” She came to stand behind the seated woman, tenderly rubbing her slender fingers along the sides of her neck. She could smell her scent on the Gryffindor’s skin and it made her Veela preen and strut about in the back of her mind.

Hermione looked up at her through the reflection, her soft brown eyes no longer wild with excitement and lust “Oh, yeah… I’m fine. That got a little intense. Which was not a bad thing, I mean, I quite liked it… it was just… wow. I’ve never felt like that before.” The usually well spoken woman was stammering, her face flushing a little with embarrassment. “I mean, I haven’t um, done anything more than kiss someone before. It was all very new to me.”

“Oui. Eet was. I’ve never done zat before eizzer.”

“Really?”

“You seem surprised. But non, I was worried about rejection for my… anatomy. Like I said, I’ve never really felt comfortable and I didn’t know ‘ow I fit een… but wizz you, I can just be me.”

Hermione nodded sadly, remembering how it felt when Ron had come after her not once, but twice about her homosexuality. For something that she had no control over. Something that was just _her_. She couldn’t imagine what it might have been like for Fleur growing up. “Well, I think it is wonderful and I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Fleur perked up, “Really?”

The brunette turned around in her seat and pressed her hand over the blonde’s chest above her heart. “You are who I want, Fleur Delacour. “I don’t care if you have a cock, a vagina, or nothing at all, as long as I have _you_. You are wonderful in every way and I will keep telling you this until you can get it through your stubborn Veela skull!” 

“You never cease to amaze me, ma belle,” she leaned down to kiss her quickly before pulling away. “We should ‘urry, zough. If we are late, Maman will assign us chores to do.”

“Chores?”

“Oui, like mucking out ze stables. Wizzout ze magie! Eet ees not fun!” Fleur rolled her eyes at the memories.

“Well, we can’t have that!” Hermione laughed and stood up from the stool she was seated upon. “Do I look okay?”

“You look lovely, mon amour.” Fleur grinned and took her hand. 

“So, how much trouble are we going to be in?” Hermione asked as they wandered down the long corridor toward the stairs to the main floor.

“Trouble? None. But my Papa will probably give us some shit about eet. ‘E ees kidding of course, ‘e likes to mess around. ‘E ees always teasing. I zink you can see where Gabrielle gets eet from, non? You can tell eet ees not good if ‘e ees being serious.”

“Yes, I had noticed quite the similarity. You are going to have your hands full when she gets older.”

“Don’t remind me. She ees a menace now. When she ‘its puberty and ‘er Veela presents ‘erself? Goddess ‘elp us all. She will be worse zan a demon incarnate.” Fleur laughed, her voice light like tinkling bells. 

Fleur led the way down the stairs to the dining room. Her parents and Gabrielle were already sitting at a long darkwood table, easily large enough to comfortably sit 20, 9 on each side and the two ends. She led the brunette to their seats, their place settings already set and the wine poured. 

Gabrielle was eyeing them closely and fixing them both with the biggest shit eating grin. Before the child could speak, Appoline played defense and cut her off at the pass.

“So, ‘Ermione. I trust you are settling een? Fleur ‘as been a gracious ‘ostess?” The eldest Veela smiled gently.

“I zink she ‘as been very zorough.” Gabrielle snickered, then winced slightly under her mother’s glare.

Hermione blushed and tried to recover the situation. She sat down as Fleur held her chair out for her before answering. “Yes, thank you. Your home is magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Bon, I ‘ope zat you will take some time to enjoy ze estate and ze surrounding area. Marseille ees wonderful zis time of year, particularly for going to ze beach for an ocean swim. Or Fleur can take you on ze yacht.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Eet ees no trouble. I would very much like to show you my ‘omeland. And ze waters ‘ere are beautiful. Eet ‘as been too long since I went sailing. ‘Ave you been before? I zink you would enjoy it.” Fleur smiled as she took a seat next to Hermione, who shook her head to answer her question. 

Once seated, she instantly reached for her wine, taking a healthy swig. _Goddess did she miss their wine._ They ran a small winery and produced their own special reserves for themselves and the Clan as gifts. Marcel had a knack for herbology and was constantly trying to breed new grape varieties and experiment with flavors. This batch was particularly good, rich and flavorful with a slightly fruity aftertaste.

“‘Ow long do you plan on staying wizz us?” Apolline sipped her wine.

“We ‘ave a week before ‘Ermione and I must go back to London.” Fleur was brimming with happiness seeing her mate interact so easily with her family and she could tell that her parents approved as well. She hadn’t been concerned, she knew that they just wanted her to be happy and Hermione made her happy, but it was encouraging to see them all getting along together.

“Bon, you are just een time.” Marcel clapped his hands merrily as the first course was served.

“Bouillabaisse?” Hermione chuckled with a raised eyebrow as she inspected her bowl.

Fleur laughed “Too on ze nose? Eet ees a specialty of Marseille, we ‘ave so much fresh seafood ‘ere!”

Marcel looked between the two young women “What ees on ze nose?”

“Oh, it was just the first thing that Fleur said to me. She came all the way across the Great Hall to ask me for the bouillabaisse.”

“Eet was Gabrielle’s fault. She ate all of eet at our table.” Fleur recalled, the tiny Veela stuck out her tongue in response.

“Really, little flower, zat was your pick up line? Asking for ze soup? Are you sure you are my child? Zis one ees even more fantastic for giving you a chance after zat!” Marcel’s belly laugh rang out, his cheeks warm and rosy.

“And zen ‘Ermione stood up and shouted zat she was not jealous of Fleur! For ze entire ‘all to ‘ear!” Gabrielle piped in with all the tact of a 9 year old. “Eet was wonderful, you should ‘ave seen Fleur’s face! What did ze aubergine boy say to you to ‘ave zat reaction, Brainy?”

“Gabrielle!” Apolline scolded her youngest as Fleur glared daggers at her sister. “Do not torment your sister wizz guests een ze ‘ouse. And show respect for Mademoiselle ‘Ermione.”

“Sorry, ‘Ermione,” Gabrielle pouted and turned her attention back to her soup.

“It’s fine, Gabrielle. Believe me, I’ve been called worse. I am actually fond of your nickname, but just from you.” Hermione smiled at the youngest Veela before turning back to Marcel. “And no… I didn’t give her a chance right away. We went back and forth for a time, but we got there eventually. Turns out we’re both rather stubborn.”

Marcel grinned “So you ‘ave a fire een you, oui? Zat ees good. Our little flower can be quite ‘ot ‘eaded ‘erself… eet ees good zat she find someone who can challenge ‘er. Zese Delacour women are… somezzing else, non?” He winked smugly, causing Hermione to want to bury herself in her bowl and drown.

“Papa!” Fleur grimaced at her father’s teasing. She was watching Hermione eat her soup, “So, ‘ow do you like ze real zing?”

“It really is delicious!” Hermione nodded enthusiastically, taking another bite. “The stuff at Hogwarts was good, but it can’t hold a candle to this.”

“Eet ‘elps being een ze region most famous for ze dish. No offense to ze British, but no one can cook bouillabaisse like ze French. Especially in Marseille.” Apolline sipped her wine between bites.

They fell into light conversation, Marcel and Apolline asking Hermione various questions about herself, her childhood growing up in a non magical household, her time at Hogwarts, her parents’ dentistry practice and more. 

Fleur gave a dramatic retelling of her first experience with having her teeth cleaned the Muggle way, which the others got a big laugh at.

As expected, the topic of the future and Hermione’s plans for after school came up.

“Well, actually it’s rather interesting. I was moved up to seventh year classes, so this summer I plan on taking all of the exams required for Hogwarts graduation. I hope to get an internship soon for some real life experience.” The Gryffindor smiled as she explained the unique situation regarding her education. 

“Mmm, I am starting to see zat Fleur did not exaggerate about you after all.” Marcel smiled warmly, “beauty and brains, oui?”

“There’s a reason I call her Brainy!” Gabrielle piped in, her mouth full of ratatouille. 

“Gabrielle! Do not speak wizz your mouzz full of food!” Apolline admonished yet again. It was nearly a full time job.

Hermione flushed and Fleur sat back comfortably in her seat, having finished her meal, and was casually sipping on her second glass of the rich red wine. 

Hermione was about to speak when the fireplace roared to life behind her and out stepped an elderly woman, though she was still stunningly beautiful in a mature and sophisticated sense. 

Adeline Delacour has arrived. 

“I apologize for being late, I got ‘eld up at ze Ministry… you know ‘ow Minister Beaumont can just talk and talk and talk about absolutely nozzing.” Her thick French accent filled into the room.

Fleur was a little slow to react with her head feeling warm with wine but she recognized the somewhat scratchy feminine voice instantly “Grandmere!” She jumped up and ran to embrace her grandmother. “What are you doing ‘ere?”

“Ees zat any way to greet your dearest grandmere?” Adeline smiled and embraced her eldest granddaughter, the corners of her eyes wrinkling slightly from her smile. “Ah, but my dear flower, you are being rude. Are you going to introduce me to zis lovely guest?”

Hermione stood and turned to face the new arrival. “Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you.”

“Adeline Delacour. My dear, ze pleasure ees mine I assure you.” The full Veela greeted the brunette with the customary double kiss then stood back to look at the young couple. The wise Veela’s eyes shifted between Fleur and Hermione, giving them both a knowing nod. She then moved to greet the rest of her family before taking her place, a full setting appearing out of thin air before her. “Mmm… bouillabaisse and ratatouille? I chose a good night to visit, non?”

“We were not expecting you, Maman. What brings you ‘ere tonight?”

“Need I remind you of who I am? I can come and go as I please without permission, my daughter.” The family matriarch gave her a stern but loving look. Adeline Delacour was a blend of Apolline and Marcel’s personalities. She had the warm grandmotherly demeanor but also a no-nonsense attitude that Hermione could appreciate. Like the rest of the women in her bloodline, her hair was silvery blonde but had taken on a whiter hue with her age. It contrasted nicely with the red robes she was wearing. 

“As far as ze purpose of my visit, ozzer zan to just visit, a little birdie told me zere would be a special guest ‘ere zat I would want to meet.”

“Ah, you spoke to Camille zen…” Apolline murmured as she sipped her wine, her ego still smarting a little from her mother’s light scolding. 

Hermione remembered that the current Clan leader had mentioned earlier that her two sisters might be stopping by to visit later. Camille must be one of Fleur’s aunts, she thought to herself.

Fleur took Hermione’s hand as they sat back down and held it, resting them on the table as she rubbed the back of her hand with her thumb. She caught the warm brown eyes watching her, quietly asking her to take the lead. “Since we are all ‘ere, we wanted to take a moment to share somezzing wizz you all.”

Four pairs of eyes were suddenly watching them intently and she felt the brunette’s grip tighten. “You say it…” her mate whispered, almost inaudible. 

Fleur nodded and dove right in, “Well, zere ees more reason for our visit zan just pleasantries and a relaxing stay. ‘Ermione ees my girlfriend, but eet turns out zat she ees also my mate and she ‘as accepted me een return. We ‘ave begun ze bonding process.”

In an uncharacteristic outburst of emotion, Apolline shrieked and ran over to embrace the young couple, One arm around each of their shoulders, squeezing them both in death grips. She was speaking in rapid French as she rocked excitedly from side to side. Fortunately she switched back to English, “Zis ees a glorious day! My baby ‘as found ‘er one! And what a nice young lady she ees! I could not be more zrilled! You truly are family now, ‘Ermione! Zis calls for a celebration! Bring out ze best reserves!” In seconds, fresh glasses of wine appeared in front of everyone.

Despite his more outgoing and jovial personality, Marcel had a more subdued reaction. He was married to a part-Veela and he understood that finding one’s mate was significant, but not quite the full extent. Especially since he was not Apolline’s true mate. His eyes swam with unshed tears, a father’s lament of having to admit that his little girl was growing up. Still he congratulated them both and welcomed Hermione to the family with a bone crushing hug.

Having just settled into her chair, Adeline smiled warmly but did not get up, offering her congratulations from across the table.

Gabrielle excitedly bounced in her seat at the prospect of having another sister to torment. Hermione could already see the gears turning in that mischievous little mind.

The family chatted excitedly for a while before Adeline jumped straight into a more serious topic, her bowl of soup now mostly finished.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, my dear. ‘Ow ees eet possible for my Fleur’s Veela to recognize you as ‘er one? You don’t seem of age yet, zough forgive me for assuming.” The former Clan leader asked as she casually sopped up her soup broth with a piece of bread. 

“Oh, I used a Time Turner in school to attend extra classes.” Hermione responded as casually as if Adeline had asked her for the weather report.

Marcel’s rolling belly laugh boomed “Zey gave you a Time Turner to attend extra classes? I never ‘eard of such a zing!”

Hermione blushed “it does seem a little foolish now, but yes. It must have messed with my age from repeated long term use.”

“Oui, for when I first laid eyes on ma belle, I just knew. My Veela was very adamant.” Fleur added “I do not know ‘ow but I am so grateful eet turned out zis way. I ‘ave never been ‘appier.”

Adeline scoffed “Zat Dumbledore, still up to ‘is old tricks I see… well, I ‘ave never ‘eard of such a zing but eet does make sense een a way. Regardless, I am very pleased for you bozz. It ‘as been too long since we ‘ad a true mated pair een ze Delacour line. You 'ave made me a very 'appy grandmere, my flower.”

Fleur beamed, her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much.

“Speaking of grandmeres…” Apolline waved her hand and a vial of swirling pink liquid appeared in front of Hermione. “As much as I look forward to ze day, I zink per’aps now ees not ze time, non? You are bozz very young and eet ees important to experience life before settling down and starting a family. Just a sip each morning should suffice, zough maybe more eef you plan to ‘ave sex more zan three times een a day.”

Hermione turned tomato red in a heartbeat and offered an awkward thanks before putting the vial in her lap and out of sight. She looked like she was trying to think of a spell to cause her to melt into the floor.

Fleur offered her a weak smile “I’m sorry, ma belle, did I mention zat my family ‘as no boundaries when eet comes to talking about sex?”

“You’ve mentioned it…” Hermione coughed out, clearly still embarrassed beyond measure.

The situation was saved by the arrival of the rest of Fleur’s family. It was a whirlwind of energy and chaos as the fireplace roared to life again and again as more people traveled to the Delacour estate via the Floo network. Laughter and loud chatting soon filled the halls. 

Camille Delacour, Adeline’s second daughter, her wife Sophia, and their 15 year old twin girls, Cecile and Rochelle, were the first to arrive. Camille worked for the _French Gazette,_ Wizarding France’s equivalent of the _Daily Prophet_. She met Sophia years ago when they were both junior journalists for the newspaper. In time, Camille became an editor, but Sophia still did field work. They both played a critical role in keeping Clan affairs out of print. 

Next to make an appearance was Marguerite Delacour, Adeline’s youngest. She was joined by her Muggle-husband, Francis and their three children, Adrian, 14, Louis, 9, and Madeline, 6. Marguerite worked in the French Ministry and Francis worked in Muggle-France’s military defense branch.

Hermione looked surprised not only to see one of Fleur’s aunts had married a Muggle, but they had two sons. She thought that there were only females born to Veela and part-Veela but Fleur explained that it was possible to have male offspring but they did not carry Veela blood, which was only passed on to the women of the family.

Cecile, Rochelle, and Adrian all attended Beauxbatons but the three youngest still studied at home until they were ten. Unlike Hogwarts, Beauxbatons started at age 10, so Louis would be starting next year. 

Once everyone arrived, greetings were exchanged and introductions made, the group retired to the sitting room where Fleur’s cousins all wanted to hear about her experiences as the Triwizard Champion. The older cousins had not been allowed to travel to Hogwarts with the Beauxbatons delegation so they were very eager to hear about the castle. Hermione regaled the group with some of her experiences and adventures, most of which were met with disbelief. 

After that, the youngest children were sent to bed and the older family members stayed up to talk longer. The older cousins and the other adults were very excited to get to know Fleur’s new girlfriend and Hermione happily obliged, not bothered by having to repeat herself from dinner talk. The new couple hadn’t revealed their mate status to the extended family and by virtue of Veela law, no one else could divulge it.

It was close to midnight before Fleur and Hermione managed to extract themselves from conversation and they quickly fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione was having the time of her life, surrounded by genuinely warm and welcoming people. She had been a little worried at first that they would be uppity or entitled because of their lineage and nearly royal status. But she was relieved to find that despite being members of the most powerful Veela clan in France, they all seemed surprisingly ordinary and down to earth. And no one looked down at her for being a Muggle-born or judged her for being with Fleur. They were a big, warm, and welcoming family and all that entailed.

They had their family spats, drama and competitions. Apparently there were still some unresolved childhood rivalries between the three sisters and they were constantly trying to one-up each other. They joked and laughed and embarrassed each other by telling awkward stories. They did some things as a group and other times they went off on their own, no expectations. But above all, it was clear that they loved each other unconditionally and the familial bond was very important in Veela culture. What’s more, they knew that she was important to Fleur and had accepted her into their fold with open arms. 

Time flew by quite quickly and the young couple made sure to make the most of it and around the estate or exploring the surrounding area.

Most days featured a visit to the beach to enjoy the summer weather with various family members. Hermione had started reading through Fleur’s collection while lying on the sandy beach sunning herself. Her skin was taking on a nice tan and her freckles were becoming more pronounced. Fleur had suggested a special beach where there were no tan lines, but the British witch wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea, especially with Fleur’s family members around. 

She was sure to write Harry a few letters, making it sound like she was spending time with Fleur before they had to part ways for her to go to her internship. She really wanted to sell the idea that Fleur was staying in France. Especially if this timeline was like the last and Voldemort learned about the mental connection he shared with the Boy Who Lived. If he looked for any information about Fleur on Bellatrix’s behalf, she would be safer if they thought she was abroad.

While she had agreed to let the planning for the Horcrux hunt go for the week, she wasn’t going to spend her entire time goofing off. She wanted some academic stimulation still, so decided she would start to learn French. Cecile, Rochelle, and Adrian (with Gabrielle leading the charge, of course) were all eager to teach her the inappropriate phrases and curses, passing them off as harmless comments. Fleur put a stop to it all when she found out and took it upon herself to be Hermione’s proper language tutor. 

She and Fleur went riding a few times, sometimes riding together on the same horse, sometimes on separate mounts. Gabrielle and the twins joined them once and they had an impromptu race across the grounds, which she lost miserably but still enjoyed. It was fun to watch the sisters be so free. She knew that when Fleur was out in society, she was expected to act a certain way. But here everyone could just be themselves and let loose. 

Hermione enjoyed exploring the grounds, wandering through the uniform rows of the apple orchards or among the tangled grapevines. She stopped and talked to some of the groundskeepers who tended to the estate, many of whom were house elves living and working there of their own volition. There was an entire dormitory built behind the estate where they lived.

She was amazed when she found out that the Delacours, like many other families in France, employed rather than enslaved their house elves like British households. It reminded her of her S.P.E.W. days when she was crusading for house elf rights and liberation. Unlike the UK, the house elves in France were liberated nearly a century ago and they had the same rights as the other magical creatures. Unfortunately these rights were still somewhat lacking compared to wizards and witches, but it was still better than the British Ministry laws, which were almost nonexistent. At least in France, individuals of magical creature descent weren’t treated like criminals, tracked and recorded for their lives.

One evening the cousins managed a few games of modified Quidditch, without Bludgers or the Snitch, just passing around the Quaffle while Adrian played Keeper. Fleur and Cecile faced off against Louis and Rochelle. Madeline and Hermione cheered from the sidelines. She still hated flying, that hadn’t changed. She watched her mate in awe. She knew that Fleur was talented, but she never knew that the blonde was so graceful in the air. She looked just as at home on a broom as Harry. She had even played as a Chaser for one of the Beauxbatons teams, the same one Evangeline played on as Seeker. 

Other evenings they would all sit around the salon or walk through the mazes out front in small groups. The cousins delighted in sharing embarrassing stories about the heiress. They were mostly exaggerated, according to Fleur, but her blushes told Hermione otherwise. 

At night she and Fleur snuggled and had a few more heated snogging sessions, though the clothes stayed on and the potion remained corked on the nightstand. She was very proud of Fleur for not hiding herself as much anymore, though she had to get most of her clothes tailored for her comfort. The young heiress seemed to be more comfortable with herself and was making quite a bit of progress with accepting herself entirely. Hermione did her best to remain supportive and encouraging, giving her mate daily reminders of how wonderful she was.

On the last day in Marseille, she and Fleur had gotten up before dawn and made their way down to the ocean, taking the yacht out to watch the sunrise. She was amazed that Fleur knew how to sail the Muggle way and she happily assisted wherever she could, following Fleur’s instructions for pulling various ropes and sails.   
  
It was one of the most picturesque moments Hermione had ever experienced. She was leaning back against Fleur’s front on a lounge on the deck, snuggled under a blanket, just as the fiery orb broke the horizon and cast the most beautiful palette of color across the sky. After that they tossed in some fishing lines to try to catch something for brunch. She was surprised that they used Muggle methods, but then again, anyone in a boat might come by and they couldn’t exactly be summoning fish directly out of the sea. Fleur prepared a sort of ceviche dish using the girelles they managed to hook and bring on board. They stayed out a few more hours just enjoying each other’s company and finally having a private moment to themselves.

But as with all things, it was not to last and the couple reluctantly said their goodbyes to the family and traveled back to London after their week of fun. They planned to stay in the Leaky Cauldron so that Hermione could travel to the Ministry so she could take her exams. It would take two weeks for Hermione to take all of her tests, but once they were done, it was full steam ahead. 

The first three Horcruxes were relatively easy. The Hufflepuff Cup was in the Lestrange vault. At this time the Slytherin Locket was still at Grimmauld Place, and Ravenclaw’s Diadem was safely tucked away on the messy shelves of the Room of Requirement. That left three mysteries to solve. The Gaunt Ring, Nagini, and Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of not making this chapter gigantic, I did a bit of a time jump/overview of their stay in Marseille. So if there are any of the Hermione/Fleur scenes you want to see in more detail, let me know and I'll post as a bonus chapter at the end.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, we have officially wrapped up Goblet of Fire and the summer after. From here on out it’s pretty much rolling parts of the final 3 books into one new story called “Harry Potter and the Women Who Kick Ass and Take Names.” Or more aptly named, “The Women Who Kick Ass and Take Names and some bits about Harry Potter.”  
> Oh, and there’s a little heated scene at the end.

Fleur was sitting at the table of their little room above the Leaky Cauldron, sipping her tea as she read the Daily Prophet. Hermione had gone to the Ministry to take her last N.E.W.T. for Potions and she had the full day to herself. The stories were fairly ordinary, but in this case, no news was good news. There was no mention of Voldemort or Bellatrix, or any other suspicious Death Eater activity. They weren’t expecting it yet. It had taken several months in the past timeline for the Death Eaters to become more active and the first disappearances to start. Then again, nothing about this timeline was like the first time and they had to be ready for anything. 

She tossed the paper aside and looked out the window with a sigh. She made to get up and get ready to go out for the day however, a small advertisement caught her attention.

_ Do you like living on the edge? Are you looking for an adventure? Do you want to travel the world and explore the unknown? Gringotts now hiring Curse Breakers! Great benefits and compensation. Inquire within, no personal owls, please. _

Fleur chuckled to herself. She had rather enjoyed her time as a Curse Breaker. Most of her days were spent on daring adventures exploring caves or ancient tombs. It kept her mind and body active and she had thrived on the adrenaline rush it provided. With her natural ability to sense powerful magical objects, she had risen fairly high in the ranks in a short period of time. It had also given her a perfect cover to keep her eyes and ears out for information that she could feed back to the Order. 

She knew that this was not an option for her this timeline. Not with Bellatrix still on the loose and looking for her. She felt surprisingly disappointed by this, but she knew that if she were out in the field on a mission, she was practically a sitting target. Not to mention that it would put her work partner in danger, too. She wouldn’t risk it. Maybe if they were successful and managed to defeat Voldemort and his Dark Lady, then she could reconsider it as an option for her career. Or perhaps an Auror. She had several decades before her mother retired and she was expected to take over the Clan. Might as well fit in some living and work experience before being stuck in the political web.

But this gave her an idea. They still needed to get the Hufflepuff Cup out of the impenetrable Gringotts Bank. Hermione had told her about their near-disastrous attempt, which involved her using Polyjuice Potion to take on the visage of Bellatrix herself and somehow escaping on the back of a dragon. She knew her mate was fearless, but some of the stories that the Golden Girl had told her about her adventures in the previous timeline were almost beyond belief. But then again, this was the woman who assumed the identity of her best friend knowing that meant that she would have to personally face off with Voldemort. 

_ Who does that?  _ Hermione Granger, that’s who.

Fleur sat back in her chair, staring at the wall deep in thought. There had to be an easier way to get in and out of Gringotts that didn’t involve dragons. Besides, she had had enough encounters with dragons to last her for a while.

Then it hit her. She remembered that a couple of times a year, the Curse Breakers did security checks on the wards and protective enchantments guarding the lower vaults. Which included the Lestrange Vault. All they needed was a Curse Breaker. Since she was out of the picture, they had limited options. Fortunately, she had the perfect person in mind.

In the past timeline, she and Bill Weasley had started working together the fall after her graduation from Beauxbatons once she completed her training period. At this point in time, the eldest Weasley was already employed and established by the bank. And very soon he was going to join the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps they could see if they could pull some strings to ensure that Bill was on the team of Breakers for the next time this internal job came up. It would take time, but it was a possibility. And it didn’t involve dragons.

Feeling good about her plan, she set her illusion disguise and left for the day. She had a few errands to tend to and then planned on reading at the cafe until it was time to meet Hermione for dinner later.

Hours later, she and Hermione were sitting outside of a little restaurant having dinner, both illusioned to appear as an elderly couple to anyone other than each other, enjoying the late July evening. They had cast a few light protective enchantments to deter eavesdroppers out of habit but the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley were relatively quiet and it would be hard for someone to listen in without them noticing. 

Hermione still looked slightly disheveled from her day. Her bushy brown hair was pointing out in all directions, the ends still crackling a little with latent energy. Potions was her least favorite subject, after all, and had always given her the most trouble.

“Are you feeling okay, mon amour?” Fleur was concerned about how tired and stressed out Hermione seemed. She had lost most of her French accent almost immediately upon return to London. Being surrounded by her family and also hearing French being spoken regularly had caused her natural accent to come back out in force when they were in France.

“Yeah, I’m just glad that’s finally over. I really think it’s silly to have to do this considering everything going on, but I guess it’s the best cover to explain my education.”

“Yes, it is a good plan. Once we are done with our mission, you’ll have to integrate back into society and you can’t do that without graduating!” She chuckled and sipped her wine.

The Golden Girl laughed, taking a drink of her butterbeer, “I suppose. It all seems so foolish though, given everything else that’s going on. But tell me about your day.”

“It was good. I had a coffee and read at that little cafe down the way. I sent Maman a letter that said that I would be taking the year to travel abroad while you were at your internship, so they will not be expecting me to check in. I think that covers our bases pretty well.”

“Good, and I’ve been dropping hints that you’re going to be in France. The fewer people who know your actual whereabouts the better.”

Fleur nodded, she didn’t particularly like the idea of hiding, but she knew it was for the best that people did not know where she was. It would make avoiding Bellatrix easier. The Dark witch wouldn’t know where to start if she was in fact looking for her. 

“I also transferred a large sum of gold from my vault in France to yours in Gringotts. What’s mine is yours after all. That way we won’t have to worry about money and resources.” Fleur smiled and reached under the table, rubbing Hermione’s leg with her foot. “On a lighter note, I picked up some new quill nibs. I think yours will need to be changed out soon. Self-inking quills are not indefinite use.” 

Hermione nodded ‘Yeah, I wondered about that. It was especially useful during those tests, I’ll have you know. Not having to worry about spilling my inkwell or smudging my work. And it reminded me of you when I felt my focus slipping. But I think that it was starting to run out at the end.”

“Well, you probably wrote 10 full rolls of parchment worth of essays over the last two weeks, I’m surprised it lasted that long.”

“17 actually.” Hermione grinned, then rolled her eyes at Fleur’s unamused look “What? I’m an overachiever and they don’t call me the brightest witch of my age for nothing!”

Fleur just laughed softly and sipped her wine again. “The rest of my day should probably be shared in more private quarters.”

Hermione nodded, understanding the not-so-subtle message and the pair finished their meal with superficial conversation.

Back in the safety of their room, they cast a number of protective enchantments to avoid eavesdroppers, dropped their disguises, and got to the meat of their evening discussion.

Fleur told Hermione about her idea about the Cup, which the brunette was on board with, as expected. It was the easiest way to get in without setting off any suspicions. The last thing they needed was for Bellatrix and Voldemort to get wind of their plan to collect the Horcruxes and destroy them.

“I think that’s bloody brilliant.” Hermione nodded her head enthusiastically when she heard about Fleur’s plan. “He’d already have access and a reason to go inside! In the meantime, I can work on making a replica that he can use to replace the original. He’ll have to worry about the Gemini curse. Last time we almost were crushed by the pile of gold that we accidentally created.”

Fleur smiled broadly as she sat on the couch, Hermione’s head was in her lap and she absentmindedly stroked the side of the brunette’s face, gently tugging on her hair every so often. They had both changed into their pajamas, baggy sleeping shirts and loose shorts. “And the Locket is in Grimmauld Place at this point in time?”

“Yes, we actually had found it when Molly had us clean out the place in the last timeline. We didn’t know what it was and actually tossed it in the rubbish pile when we couldn’t open it. We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble if we had known. Well, second time’s the charm, I guess.” 

Fleur nodded “So, when we get these Horcruxes, what should we do with them? You said that the locket made you act horribly when you wore it.”

“I thought about that, too. The Diadem is safely in the Room of Requirement. We can just store the rest in there. No one would be suspecting.”

“You mean, we would have to sneak into Hogwarts?” Fleur raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going.

“Not sneak. I’m sure Dumbledore would let us on the grounds.” Hermione shrugged and closed her eyes with a wide yawn. 

“Are you tired, mon amour?”

“Mmm, a little. More mentally tired, I suppose.”

“Perhaps I could give you a massage to make you feel better?” Fleur offered hopefully. 

“That sounds lovely, actually. I didn’t realize how much stress I was carrying from these stupid exams. I’ve already taken them for Morgana’s sake! But the last time I had at least had a proper chance to study,” the brunette whined softly.

“Mmm, yes, you definitely need to relax now that it is over. Come, let me help you. I think you have more than earned it a hundred times over.” Fleur waited for Hermione to roll off her lap before getting up and leading them to their tiny bedroom.

Once there she sat down with a sigh “I will say that I miss my bed.”

“It was amazing, I miss it too. But I would be happy with the floor as long as I have you,” the brunette joined her on the bed.

“So… this will be easier if you took your shirt off.” She blushed brightly. Why was she suddenly so nervous about seeing her mate partially naked? She had seen many women in various states of undress before, either in the Quidditch dressing rooms or just changing around the dorms. But this felt different. She had felt nothing for the other women but she felt everything for Hermione. It was their next step and it excited her more than she realized. 

“I have something special. Why don’t you get yourself ready and lie face down on the bed and I’ll go get it.”

“Oh, right.” The Gryffindor nodded with an awkward chuckle and pulled her shirt off as the French Veela went back into the main room. She had already taken off her bra earlier, so she was bare from the waist up. She lay down on the bed, she slid her arms under the pillow and rested her head on top, tilted to the side. Her eyes slipped closed as she waited.

Fleur came back with her vial and froze at the sight before her. Her mouth went dry as she stared unabashedly for a moment, just taking in the view. Hermione’s flawless sun kissed skin laid bare and on full display, her adorable tan lines from her swimsuit still clearly visible. Her ribs expanded and contracted with each breath and she could make out the gentle swell of the side of her breast. She still had a runner’s physique, even though they hadn’t gone running together for some time. Her eyes traced the curve of her spine and the shallow dip of her waist, giving her a perfect hourglass form. She looked so soft and touchable. Then she remembered that she had a task to do and scurried over to the bed, settling next to her mate, propped up on her knees so she could lean over.

“Mmm, I was wondering where you went.” Hermione murmured, her voice muffled slightly from the pillow.

Fleur smiled, her hands hovering just an inch or so over the bare tan skin. “I got you something special to celebrate finishing your exams.” She might have gone to the apothecary earlier that day and purchased some special oils for this very purpose. Her hands trembled as she uncorked the bottle and dripped a few drops down the curve of her mate’s back. The soft smell of rose petals and lavender filled the air. Once there was a decent amount on Hermione’s back, she set the bottle on the nightstand and tentatively touched her smooth skin, pressing her palms into the tense muscles.

“Oh, that feels like heaven.” The brunette sighed happily and melted into the bed.

Fleur carefully massaged the knots out of Hermione’s shoulders and neck, loving the feeling of her hands gliding over her skin. The oils had been a  _ very _ good idea. Once she finished her back, she carefully worked her way down one arm, then switched to the other and worked her way back up. She loved the little sighs and moans she earned as she worked the tension out of the taut muscles.

“You spoil me, Fleur…” Hermione mumbled sleepily.

“It is my mission to make you happy every day, mon amour. Your happiness brings me great satisfaction, especially when it is directly related to something I have done for you.” Fleur chuckled and leaned down to kiss her mate’s exposed cheek.

“This isn’t fair.”

“What isn’t fair?” Fleur tilted her head, slightly confused by the random statement.

“You still have a shirt on.”

“Oh…” Fleur pulled her top off without a second thought, lowering herself down on the bed on her stomach, lying next to the sleepy witch.

“Will you hold me?” Hermione turned on her side with her back to her.

“Oui, mon amour.” Fleur scooted onto her side and pulled Hermione flush with her. She looped an arm under Hermione’s pillow so her head rested on her arm, the other draped over her waist, holding their bodies close. Even just feeling their bare skin touching like this felt like lightning pulsing across her skin. She could feel herself starting to get excited and knew that her mate could probably feel the shift in her sleeping shorts, but her mate had no reaction except for a soft snore as she fell asleep.

Fleur snorted quietly to herself and kissed Hermione’s back and shoulders a few times as her own eyes slipped shut, feeling content and completely at ease.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione woke the next morning feeling rather well rested and thoroughly relaxed. But hot. So hot. And there was something smooth lying behind her, holding her close. It didn’t feel like Fleur’s shirt. She started to stir as she woke up and felt Fleur’s hand tighten directly on her waist as she moved. Her eyelids fluttered open as her mind caught up and sleepily looked down.

“Oh!” she squeaked when she realized she was naked from the waist up. She slowly looked behind her and realized that her personal heating pad was Fleur’s naked torso. “Oh!” she squeaked again.  _ How did that happen? _ The last thing she remembered was Fleur’s magnificent massage…  _ Oooohhh… _ she blushed slightly as the foggy memory formed in her mind. 

She felt Fleur shift slightly in her sleep, grasping her tighter about the waist. Her steady, even breathing was the only indicator that the blonde was still fast asleep and moving subconsciously. She could feel the swell of Fleur’s breasts against her back, pressing against her with each breath and she reveled in the feeling. And then she felt something firm pressing against her backside as the blonde shifted her hips.  _ Oh! _ They had cuddled together most nights since they started sleeping in the same bed in France, but apparently Fleur hadn’t gotten excited in her sleep before. 

Naturally, Hermione was curious. She hadn’t felt Fleur’s cock in such detail yet, with only a few thin layers of fabric separating them. Every other time had been through her jeans or thick robes. From what she could gather in their current position, it was much larger than she had initially anticipated. Not over the top, but above average in both length and girth according to the books she had read. She curiously rocked her hips back, which was met with an instinctive forward movement from the Veela. She instantly regretted it, suddenly feeling rather guilty. She felt like she was breaching a line, since Fleur was still asleep and not in control of herself, so she quickly put her curiosity aside and lay still, just enjoying the feeling of her mate wrapped around her.

As much as she wanted to stay in this position, her bladder was starting to protest and she carefully extracted herself from the mess of limbs and blankets holding her in place. Once taking care of a few morning necessities, she made a quick breakfast of toast and jam and tea and headed back to the bedroom, holding the tray.

Her heart melted when she took in the sight of her mate laying on the bed. She had somehow managed to wrap herself up in the sheets like a cocoon with only her head sticking out, and she looked positively adorable. She stared for a moment, not wanting to wake her up and ruin the moment.

“Mmm… You know it’s rude to leave a woman alone in bed…” Fleur’s sleepy voice muttered as she returned to their room with the tray. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing her crystal blues gazing up at her, still slightly unfocused in her sleepy state. 

In that moment, the cerulean orbs were like windows and Hermione thought she could see straight into the depths of Fleur’s soul. Everything holding her down was stripped away. The weight of the War she had experienced and the burden they both carried now. It was just purely Fleur. It made her heart skip several beats.

A broad smile crept across the Veela’s face as she slowly looked up and down, admiring the view in front of her. “But for this, I do not think I mind that much.”

Hermione blushed when she remembered that she was standing there in very skimpy clothing. “I thought you might be hungry…”

Fleur nodded slowly and sat up, leaning her back against the headboard. The blanket covering her fell away, revealing her naked torso and Hermione’s heart skipped several more beats. She gazed at the alabaster skin on display, eyes raking across every inch. She looked absolutely beautiful, perfect in every way. Her soft mounds were slightly more than a handful and capped with delicate pink peaks. Her skin was flawless and it called to her like a lighthouse in the night. It took every ounce of self control not to throw the tray in her hands and jump into bed. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to form words. 

“See something you like? Because I certainly do.” Fleur teased softly and patted the empty spot on the bed.

Hermione’s feet felt like lead but she somehow managed to pry herself from the spot by the door and made her way to the bed, setting the tray down. “Errr, thank you for the massage last night, I apparently needed it. I don’t remember falling asleep.”

“Of course, it was my pleasure. And you were adorable. I hope you do not mind our state of undress. You asked for me to even the playing field… and then fell asleep.” Fleur laughed and reached for a piece of toast, trying to keep her mate’s eyes on her face rather than her chest. And she was doing a decent job, though those curious blue orbs flickered downward a few times.

Hermione blushed “I don’t mind. You’re very beautiful to look at, too,” she hid her face in her teacup.

“You as well, ma belle. It feels easy to be so open around you.” 

Hermione hummed softly as she nibbled on her toast.

They ate for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, shyly sneaking glances over at each other every now. But as time wore on, they became more comfortable in each other’s partial nudeness.

Fleur tilted her head to the side, watching the gears turn in Hermione’s head. “Something is on your mind. I can tell by the way your eyebrows are knit together.”

“Right… Ever since meeting your family, I’ve been wondering a bit about Veela culture and clan leadership. I’m a little confused about it. So you’re an alpha, and so is your mother. But how is she married to your father?”

Fleur took a moment to sip her tea as she arranged her thoughts “Ah, yes. It is a bit confusing, especially to someone not raised in the clan. So the way Veela leadership works has to do with our inner Veela. When we reach puberty, our Veela first presents herself to us. Some Veela are just Veela and some present as alphas, like myself and my mother. Our anatomy shifts if necessary to accommodate procreational needs with our true mate. So we know that my mother was intended to have a male mate. However, she never found him and decided to marry my father and start a family. In my case, I immediately knew I was intended to have a female mate when I developed my penis. Which I will have you know was quite a shock to wake up to. Are you following so far?”

Hermione nodded slowly, carefully taking in this new information.

“An alpha’s firstborn daughter is almost always an alpha, too, but not always. It is also possible for someone to have more than one alpha offspring. My grandmother has two alpha daughters, my mother and aunt Camille. Since my mother was the first born alpha, clan leadership shifted to her when my grandmother stepped down and will follow her line to me. However, if her Veela was somehow not an alpha, it would have passed to Camille and her line, in which case I would no longer be the immediate heir, even though I am an alpha born of my grandmother’s eldest daughter.”

Hermione blinked as she nibbled on the edge of her toast and jam “I feel like I need to get a piece of parchment to try to draw this out.”

Fleur snorted “You can try, but it will probably look like a spider web by the time we finish. It gets a little confusing in the case where there is no longer an alpha in a bloodline. Leadership will shift to the next relative alpha of the previous alpha. So if something happened to me, it would shift back to Camille and her line, since she is also an alpha. That would be an interesting case because neither Rochelle nor Cecile are alphas, probably due to the fact that they are twins, though that is uncertain. So when it came time for Camille to step down, it would just shift to the next eldest alpha in the family. It is also possible for there to be an interim non-alpha clan leader until the next alpha presents itself. But this rarely happens.” 

Hermione’s head was spinning. While most of this made sense to her, following the alphas within a bloodline, the shifting between bloodlines was very convoluted. “Okay, let me get this straight then. Hypothetically speaking, say your mother was not an alpha and Camille was the clan leader, when it came time for her to retire, it would jump back to you as the eldest alpha since there is no available alpha within Camille’s line? 

“Oui, it is not linear, but somehow it works for us. For now, the succession of leadership is just going to follow from Maman to me… to our daughter if we have one.” Fleur held her breath, they had not had the ‘that talk’ yet. Her heart was pounding and her eyes uncertain as she watched Hermione’s reaction.

Hermione blinked “Oh right… kids.”

“I’m sorry, ma belle. We probably should have talked about this.”

Hermione nodded “Well, I’m not opposed to the idea… and honestly, I kind of suspected that was something in our future. The whole ‘mates’ thing kind of implies, well… mating. Which usually leads to kids. I like the idea of raising a family with you, honestly. And after meeting your family and knowing how well loved and protected they would be just makes me even more comfortable with the idea. Just with everything else going on, I’m not sure it’s something I can really think about.”

“It is something we can revisit, we have time. And if it is something we decide we do not want, the clan will be fine. I am nearly certain Gabrielle’s Veela will also be an alpha. I mean, just look at the little monster! An attitude like that? She was practically born to boss people around.” The Veela cautiously reached over and stroked the brunette’s cheek. “All I want is to live a long, happy life with you, children or not.” 

“I mean, I also feel like we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves, seeing as we haven’t even had intercourse yet.” Hermione chuckled nervously and leaned into her hand. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve seen you partially naked, for Morgana’s sake.”

“But it is a sight worth the wait, non?” 

“Merlin, yes. I can’t believe I’ve managed not to touch you this whole time.”

“Well, there’s nothing sexier than talking about Veela politics to get the mood going,” Fleur deadpanned. “You may touch me if you like, I do not mind.”

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and moved the tray off the bed to the top of the dresser. She returned to the bed and sat next to the blonde, staring into her icy pools for a moment before hesitantly moving her right hand over and placing it on the smooth skin of Fleur’s left breast. She felt a jolt of energy course through her body at the simple touch and her left hand quickly followed suit. 

She marveled at how soft they were. She had touched her own breasts, of course, but there was something much more exciting about touching her one’s. They were slightly smaller than her own, but they felt amazing and she gave them a curious squeeze, which elicited a soft moan from the Frenchwoman.

The next thing she knew she was engaged in a deep, passionate kiss with her mate, both hands firmly on her chest, groping excitedly. Fleur’s hands had found their way to her own, eagerly squeezing and massaging her in return.

In a split second, Fleur flipped her onto her back, and she instinctively moved her legs to provide her mate with a place to settle herself. Her arms wrapped around the Veela’s sides and grasped at her back, her fingertips pressing into the firm muscles.

The blonde propped herself up on her elbows, leaning over her and kissing her roughly, their bare torsos pressed firmly together. It felt different, their chests pressed together like this, not unpleasant but definitely different. The feel of their skin moving together was intoxicating. She could feel the hardened member barely contained within Fleur’s shorts, pressing against her core.

“‘Ermione, wait,” Fleur panted and pulled away from their kiss. She rolled away to the other side of the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them close to her chest. Her eyes wide and pupils blown but she looked at odds with herself. There was a hunger there that she had never seen before. And Merlin did she want to sate that hunger for her. But she also looked terrified, staring at the blankets..

“I’m not in control,” her voice was small.

Hermione paused and took several deep breaths to calm herself down. “Right. Yeah… We should talk about this.” She licked her lips and sat back, her hands on her lap.

“I want to, I really do. I just want to make sure that we are both ready. My Veela, she can be impatient and I want to make sure that our first time is just us, not my instinct pushing us before we are ready.”

“I respect that and I really appreciate your control.” Hermione nodded “I’m sorry for getting excited. How can I help make this easier for you?”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I am excited too. While I am all for impromptu sex once we are further in our relationship, I think our first time we should at least know before we start.” Fleur shook her head softly and offered a reassuring smile. She carefully unwrapped her long limbs and held her arm out. “Come here, mon amour.”

Hermione immediately tucked herself into the crook of Fleur’s arm, her head resting against her neck, allowing her mate to wrap around her protectively. She felt the blonde’s heart beating erratically in her chest. “I agree. I really want to be yours and you to be mine in every way.”

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that, mon amour.” Fleur twisted her neck and managed to give her a small kiss on the forehead.

They sat there in comfortable silence for several long minutes, both breathing deeply to calm themselves down.

_ Tap, tap, tap _

Hermione looked up “What was that?”

Fleur shifted too and looked out the window. There was a large snowy owl hovering, desperately pecking at the window.

Hermione recognized the bird and quickly moved across the room, pulling a shirt on as she walked, and opened the window.

Hedwig tumbled into the room with an irritated hoot, holding out her foot. There was a scroll tied to her leg.

She quickly knelt down and untied the parchment and the owl gave an indignant hoot and flew out the window. 

She unfurled the parchment and started reading, scanning the untidy scrawl.

“What is it?” Fleur leaned forward on the bed, fixing her with a curious look.

“It’s Harry. He’s been expelled.”


	28. Chapter 28

“‘Ermione, wait… slow down.” Fleur tumbled off the bed, haphazardly pulling on a shirt and jeans. Hermione was already fully dressed and one shoe on and the other almost tied. “Wait. Getting upset isn’t going to help anything.”

“I need to do something, Fleur! This didn’t happen last time. Last time Harry was in school! What are we supposed to do? I can’t go hunting Horcruxes and try to keep him out of trouble! Merlin, I feel like keeping that boy alive is a full time job! Not to mention all the changes to the timeline… I can't just sit here!” Hermione’s brain was running a mile a minute as multiple trains of thought flooded her mind.

“I understand you feel that way and there’s a lot on your plate, but what is there to do right now? We don’t know where he is and we don’t know how to help. The best we can do is stay calm until we know something. Then we can help. So what do we know then?” 

Hermione huffed and sat down on the chair, her knee bounced impatiently.  _ Why couldn’t Harry stay out of trouble for just a few months? Was it that much to ask? _

“I know you don’t like waiting around. I don’t either.” Fleur straightened out her clothing now that she wasn’t worried her mate was going to make a run for it and sat down on the couch, “May I see the letter?”

Hermione held out the crumpled scroll and she read through it quickly.

“Hmm… it seems that the Ministry is trying to expel him for improper use of magic, not Dumbledore. Does the British Ministry have that power? There should be a trial, then, non? If it is a Ministry issue?”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, a large grin spreading across her face. “OH! Fleur, you’re a genius!”

The Frenchwoman snorted and rolled her eyes. “And it only took your friend getting expelled to notice this, I’m touched,” her voice was dripping sarcasm.

“Oh hush you,” Hermione chided as she rummaged around inside her trunk, grabbing out a small beaded bag. She shoved her arm inside all the way up to her armpit and dug around.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who uses Undetectable Extension Charms…” Fleur muttered as she watched curiously.

“Ah ha!” Hermione exclaimed victoriously, withdrawing a giant tome from the depths. 

“What is that? It looks like something you’d read to make yourself fall asleep.”

“Close. It’s all about modern wizarding laws. And I’m sure there’s something in here that can help us find a loophole. Here, start reading.”

“Can’t wait,” the blonde murmured grumpily. This was not how she planned to spend her morning, but if Harry was in trouble, she was glad to help. Her cock was still hard and aching from earlier, but as soon as she started reading, that issue went away. Nothing about wizarding law was even remotely sexy.

Hermione pulled several more texts from the bag and soon they were sitting at the table amid piles of books and rolls of parchment

By early evening they had gone through most of the texts and found several possible loopholes to exploit. A wizard always had a right to defend themselves in life or death situations, so they just needed a solid reason as to why Harry would use magic out of school. Hermione knew that her friend was a bit reckless, but he wasn’t an idiot. Unfortunately, Harry’s brief letter gave no mention of what spell he had used or the circumstances, so they were at a standstill.

They were eating a meal they had sent up from the tavern below when a silvery patronus came flying through their wall.

The large phoenix flew around the room a few times and Dumbledore’s voice filled the space “The Order is assembling tonight. Meet me in the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron. 7 o’clock. Make sure you aren’t followed.”

Fleur blinked “Why don’t we just go to Grimmauld Place? We’ve both been shown the secret.”

“Because we haven’t in this timeline.” Hermione corrected. “We can’t just show up unannounced, that would raise some suspicions.”

“Ah, and since Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper… that makes sense. Well, I guess we should wrap up our business here, then.” The blonde stood and cleared away the dishes before heading to their room to pack her bag.

At 6:50, Hermione and Fleur headed down, both disguised behind their illusionment charms, and settled their tab with Tom. The ‘elderly couple’ headed out into the quiet streets of Diagon Alley and made their way toward the rendezvous point, tucking themselves into the dark alley.

Minutes later, a young boy in purple robes ran up to them, his wavy auburn hair sticking out from under his cap. “Nitwit…”

“Oddment” Hermione responded immediately. She knew this was Dumbledore’s identification test. Something that she would randomly know. The four words were his closing remarks at the welcome feast her first year at Hogwarts.

“Blubber” 

“Tweak.” 

The boy smiled, his bright blue eyes twinkling in the dim light. “Good evening to you both, please take my arm.” 

The two women did as instructed and with a soft pop, the trio disappeared. 

They reappeared moments later on the doorstep to 12 Grimmauld Place.

“Well, it’s pretty much the same as I remember it.” Hermione muttered quietly as she stared up at the dark building, memories of her time living here with Ron and Harry coming back to the surface. She gripped Fleur’s hand for support as they entered the dusty house.

As soon as they were inside, everyone dropped their disguises. Dumbledore was smiling cheerfully at them back in his wizened wizard form “Well, I am glad you got the message. I will admit, it was particularly difficult to locate you two. You’ve done very well at covering your tracks. I expect that is to allay suspicions about your actual whereabouts?”

“Yes, sir. If Bellatrix is after me or Fleur, probably it’s best not to advertise ourselves. Aside from being at the Ministry to take my exams, we’ve used illusionment charms whenever we are out in public.”

“Well, I must say that is very clever,” the old wizard chuckled and led the way further into the drafty house “I believe that there are some old faces you might like to see again.” 

“Is Harry here yet? We found some information that might help him. By law he can demand a trial and we might…”

“All in due time, Miss Granger. I have no intention of expelling Harry. Come, it sounds like everyone is gathered in the kitchen for the meeting and it smells like Molly has cooked up something tasty.”

Hermione groaned internally,  _ right, the Weasleys _ . That meant dealing with Ron. 

The kitchen was full of faces of the dead. Hermione froze at the threshold as her eyes moved across the room. Her heart clenched in her chest as she was overwhelmed by seeing everyone there, alive and well. Tonks. Lupin. Sirius. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Molly and Arthur Weasley. Mad Eye, the real one this time. Even Snape. She let Fleur lead her in and take the lead on greeting everyone. 

She managed an awkward round of hellos without crying and took a seat. Fortunately the mood of the room was rather somber, so no one was suspicious of her behavior. And she wasn’t exactly known for her warm fuzzy personality. Everyone just smiled cordially or waved in return.

With the exception of Molly Weasley. The maternal witch came bustling over from the kitchen and gave Hermione a bone crushing hug. She had forgotten how much of a mother figure Molly had been to her, taking both her and Harry under her wing like lost little magical orphans when they needed to get away from their Muggle homes or during school breaks. It almost made her feel bad about the fallout with Ron. But not quite. 

“What did your fool godson do now, Black?” Mad Eye growled gruffly. “Just like James, isn’t he, breaking the rules. And now we have to plan an extraction… what a welcome back mission for the Order…”

“No Order talk!” Molly chided, her eyes shifting over to Hermione “Not when there are children here. Hermione, why don’t you join Ginny and Ron upstairs?”

“Actually, we’d both like to join the Order.” Fleur stated flatly.

“Out of the question!” Molly retorted. “You might be of age, but Hermione certainly is not. I will not allow…”

“Actually, Molly, I believe that Hermione can make that decision for herself as a legal adult.” Dumbledore cut in, his voice was quiet but firm.

“What is he talking about?” The redheaded witch raised her eyebrows incredulously.

All eyes were on the young brunette.

“Hermione is actually of legal wizarding age thanks to the wonders of time travel,” Dumbledore offered as he took a sip of his water.

“Err, right… I used a Time Turner in my third year to take a double class load. Guess I accidentally aged myself up a year and change.” Hermione offered the same excuse she had given Fleur’s family earlier that summer.

“HA!” Lupin barked and slammed his hand on the table “I was always wondering how you were in my class when I heard from Vector you were in Arithmancy at the same time!”

Moody glared over at Dumbledore “Are you barking mad? Giving a student a Time Turner?”

“Blame McGonagall.” Dumbledore replied simply. 

“Well, what’s done is done and I would like to join the Order.” Hermione spoke up, her voice steady and full of conviction. “And I think I can help.”

Molly threw her arms in the air and huffed but didn’t say anything else.

Dumbledore’s watery blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. “Well, with the exception of McGonagall, all current members of the Order of the Phoenix are present, so I say we can move it to a vote then. All in favor of allowing Miss Granger and Miss Delacour, who have both offered their services of their own free will, to join?”

There was a collective ‘aye’ except for Molly’s ‘nay’ regarding Hermione, but the motion passed with the majority vote. Hermione was surprised by how casual it was, she was at least expecting there to be an oath or something. Maybe later.

“Well, now that that is taken care of. Shall we move on to the next order of business?” Dumbledore called the meeting to order and took his seat at the head of the table. “It has come to light that Voldemort has returned.”

“So Skeeter says,” Sirius scoffed, “Can’t believe a word that bat said.”

“And there’s been no more mention of it since then.” Lupin added.

“Probably because Fudge is trying to keep it under wraps.” Tonks snorted “Man has a god-complex the size of Europe and a brain the size of a pinhead. How that lump became Minister is beyond me.”

“Indeed… while it seems far fetched,” Dumbledore put a stop to the debate “I happen to know of an eyewitness, one whom I trust.”

Everyone looked at him with wide eyes, silently asking “Who?”

Dumbledore turned to Fleur. “We are all sworn to secrecy here, Miss Delacour. If you will please enlighten us of what you saw on June 24th.”

Without missing a beat, the French witch rose from her seat. “At the final Task of the Triwizard Tournament when I touched the Triwizard Cup, I was transported to a graveyard and witnessed a resurrection ritual being performed by Death Eaters. I heard them talking about Voldemort’s return. Gratefully I managed to escape but not before they saw me. I have kept my location secret, since I worry that Bellatrix is after me.”

Sirius stiffened in his seat at the mention of his deranged cousin.

Fleur caught his eye, “Oui, she has returned. She managed to escape from Azkaban with the help of Barty Crouch Jr.”

Moody growled under his breath “May he rot in his cell for the rest of his days.”

“I will do what I can to assist with the Order, but as far as anyone knows, I am currently traveling abroad and that is the story I would like to stick to, if you don’t mind.” Fleur finished and took her seat again, squeezing Hermione’s hand under the table. They couldn’t mention Hermione's part or ‘Harry’s’ involvement without raising suspicions and questions that they weren’t ready to answer. 

“Well, I hope you have a lovely trip then. Be sure to write!” Tonks smiled cheerfully, showing her support for the ruse.

“Not to be discounting your word, Miss Delacour, but I am not entirely convinced. You saw the ritual, but how do we know for certain it was to raise You Know Who? How do we know it was successful?” Arthur spoke up.

Snape rolled his eyes and Hermione was shocked when he rolled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. It was pure black and the snake was wriggling. “Because of this. What other proof do you need?”

There was a collective silence.

“And there’s more, which brings us back to the business of Harry Potter.” Dumbledore broke the silence after a few seconds “He was attacked by Dementors outside his aunt and uncle’s house. He cast his Patronus to protect himself and his cousin. While the guards of Azkaban may take orders from the Ministry, we all know who they truly serve. It is just a matter of time before they leave their posts and join the Dark.”

“Of course!” Fleur interjected. “Bellatrix said that Crouch had convinced several Dementors to join their cause. There was a Dementor in the maze as well… that must have been Crouch!”

“We need to get him out of there then. He’s not safe!” Sirius was on his feet in seconds.

“Sit down, man. You can’t be going anywhere! Leaving this place is a sure way to get a one way ticket back to Azkaban.” Moody growled. 

“Well, I can’t just sit here while my godson is in danger!” Sirius snapped back.

The two men started arguing loudly and suddenly there was a piercing scream from the upstairs. A woman’s voice started yelling about blood-traitors, half-breeds, and Mudbloods sullying the honor of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. 

“Damn it, I hate that fucking portrait!” Sirius groaned and went to silence the portrait of his mother. He returned moments later looking annoyed but calmer.

“I understand your concerns, Sirius. We will send a party to extract him tomorrow night. Besides, I think it will be a lovely birthday gift, reuniting him with you, don’t you agree?” Dumbledore spoke calmly, “Tonks, Shacklebolt, and Lupin. Moody, you will run point on this”

Sirius seemed pleased by this and sat back in his chair, looking smug and relaxed. Though he still looked tired, thin and sickly from his year living alone with Buckbeak, Hermione could see the youthful, mischievous spirit lurking just beneath the surface. 

“How touching,” Snape’s cool voice drawled “Then Potter can live here and grow up to be a delinquent like his dear old godfather.”

“One more word, Snivelly and I’ll make you wish you were never born.” Sirius’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“That’s not helping anyone, especially not Harry.” Molly chimed in and gave them both a verbal slap on the wrist. “What kind of example are you setting for him, hmm?”

“And I think there’s a way for Harry to not be expelled.” Hermione added, having processed the reason for Harry’s use of magic and finally having a break in the conversation to get her point in, “It is his right to go to trial, since this is a Ministry edict. He can claim self-defense, which is a viable reason for the charges to be dropped. I think an unsanctioned Dementor attack surely counts as self-defense.”

“Right you are, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore smiled, “Arthur, I need you to help him appeal the charges and then escort him to the Ministry. I will represent him in court, but I am afraid I have a prior commitment and cannot be there ahead of time.”

“Of course, I’ll be sure he gets that paperwork submitted and will get him there as soon as the court date is set.” Arthur offered cheerfully.

“Oy, now that we’ve got a plan for Potter getting to school, what should we be doing about the little Voldy issue?” Tonks cut in, her pink hair turning slightly purple at the tips. 

“Well, thankfully we have some warning this time and from our past experiences we have a sense for how he thinks and how he will act.” Dumbledore’s eyes flashed over to Hermione and Fleur. “We know he is on the move but we don’t know yet where he will surface again. We must be prepared for anything. Start calling in our connections and networking between trusted allies. I’ve sent Hagrid on a mission to try to expand our reach. The best that we can do is be prepared for when the time is right. We need him to be unsuspecting of our movements, so everyone keep on alert and be subtle. We don’t want to draw him out too quickly or put him on the defensive.”

“Constant vigilance!” Moody barked and slammed his hand on the table, his blue eye swirling in its socket.

“But what we can do is leave him breadcrumbs to keep him occupied and focused, blind to everything else. There is a prophecy regarding Harry Potter and Voldemort, given to me by Sybill Trelawney shortly before Potter’s birth. It contains crucial information that he could use to his advantage. It currently resides in the Hall of Prophecies within the Ministry. We need Voldemort to get wind of this and start seeking it. But it is imperative that Potter does not know about it. Is that understood?” Dumbledore’s eyes locked with Sirius’s, the silent message coming across loud and clear. 

All eyes then shifted over to Snape, who sat a little straighter in his seat “I will see to that.”

"I fear the fight is coming to him and I for one would like to keep him as far away from danger as possible." Dumbledore's usually light tone was rather dark and foreboding and everyone just nodded or murmured their agreement.

The rest of the meeting went by quickly, discussing possible allies to the cause. At least everyone seemed on board with the idea that Voldemort had returned. Hermione was grateful that everyone seemed to take the threat seriously and now the seeds had been planted. 

She and Fleur had not divulged their plan for the Horcruxes, they weren’t ready for that yet. Though she would drop the idea about Bill and the Hufflepuff Cup to Dumbledore soon. The eldest Weasley still hadn’t joined the Order, though once approached by Dumbledore, she knew he would jump at the chance immediately.

After the meeting, Hermione and Fleur made their way upstairs to choose their room. On the way they passed an open door, where the Twins, Ron and Ginny were huddled around playing a game of Exploding Snap. Her eyes flickered over to the group of redheads but she hurried past and up the stairs to the next floor, unsure if they noticed her and Fleur or not.

They picked a room on the top floor, tucked away at the end of the long corridor and took some time to unpack and settle in. 

“Well that went well?” Fleur flopped down on the bed.

“Yes, I’m a little surprised at how relaxed it was, considering what is at stake, but I guess this is just the beginning and we have to start somewhere, right? Don’t want to dive in too quickly and put everyone in shock.”

Fleur nodded and rolled on her side, her head propped on her fist. “So what now?”

“Well, we need to get the locket. It’s here somewhere, but I don’t know where it is. I wasn’t the one who found it. I was thinking later you and I could explore the house and you use your magical bloodhound skills to find it.”

Fleur laughed “Glad to be of help. I’m not skilled enough to seek it out, but if I come close I should be able to sense its presence.”

“Good, if we can find it before someone else, that would be best. We’ll have to watch out for Kreacher. He is very protective of it.”

Fleur nodded and scooted over on the bed to make room for her mate to join her.

Before Hermione could lay down, there was a knock on the door and she went to answer it.

Dumbledore was standing there “Pardon the intrusion, I was wondering if I could have a word with both of you.”

Hermione nodded and stepped aside for him to come in. Fleur sat up on the bed to give him her attention.

“How are you both doing? I assume you have some plans in place?”

“Yes, a big part is just getting the Order assembled, so we thank you for taking care of that part. We need as many Light allies as possible for what is to come. We’ll also need everything you know about the Gaunts.”

Dumbledore nodded slowly “I believe I have some memories stored away in my office. I started to research Tom when he was a boy, trying to find his lineage. Even though I did not know at the time what he was to become, I had the sense that he was significant. You may use my Pensieve to view those memories, I hope you’ll find what you need.”

Hermione offered him a slight smile “I hope so, too. Otherwise this will be very difficult.”

They talked a little longer, Hermione warned him of the connection between Voldemort and Harry, which Dumbledore was already suspicious of. Otherwise their talk was rather superficial and the aged wizard departed before Molly called for dinner time.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Tensions between the Order members were still high but everyone tried to keep the topics discussed at the meeting out of the dinner conversation. Which in turn just made the Twins more curious and they started to ask probing questions.

Fortunately she and Fleur were able to have a nice conversation with Tonks, but she kept catching slight glances sent her way from the youngest Weasley son. It seemed he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that she and Fleur were still together. She just shrugged it off. She really didn't have time to deal with his drama. 

Fred and George took it upon themselves to provide some after dinner entertainment, demonstrating some of their recent inventions. They weren’t willing to divulge the identity of their ‘secret investor,’ but Hermione knew it was Harry. Last time he had given them his winnings from the Tournament. This time he apparently just fronted them the start up capital. Well, that meant Hogwarts was about to become a test bed for Skiving Snackboxes, Puking Pastilles, and Nosebleed Nougats.

After dinner, she and Fleur retired to their room, casting their defensive wards so they could speak freely without being listened in on. 

“So… how are we going to keep an eye on Harry to make sure things go according to the old timeline, hunt Horcruxes, and plan the trap for Voldemort? And without access to my family’s resources?  _ And _ avoid being found by Bellatrix? We might be magical but even that is stretching it.” Fleur groaned as she rubbed her temples. 

“I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we’re goin’ way into the unknown and I know it’s going to get a little confusing between what is happening in their current timeline and what happened in the ‘past timeline.’ Some stuff in stories/movies happened in the past but isn’t going to happen in their current time and vice versa. I’ll do my best to point out these points in the story.  
> The biggest changes in ch27/28 was that Fleur is not working at Gringotts this time around and Harry was attacked by Dementors this time but not the first time. It tied in too nicely with all the Dementor activity during the earlier chapters. If you have any questions or are confused, please feel free to let me know. I will either clarify it in a response or will address it in a future chapter.
> 
> Anyway, back to the story… going to dive in a little to Harry’s perspective for what’s going on at Hogwarts.

Harry couldn’t believe his luck. Not only had he managed to win his defense case and had been cleared of all the charges against him, but he also got to spend the rest of his summer at Grimmauld Place and didn’t have to go back to the Dursleys! 

Living with Sirius for a month had been great. The house was old and a little creepy, but after several long days of Molly Weasley led cleaning duty, it was starting to come around and look at least livable. He enjoyed getting to reconnect with his godfather, who told him all sorts of stories of his parents when they were in school together and after they graduated. It definitely explained where he got his rebellious streak. It seemed that there wasn’t a Hogwarts rule in existence that James Potter hadn’t managed to break or at least bend very far. He was looking forward to spending the next summer here instead of 4 Privet Drive. Sirius told him that he would have a proper room set up for him by then.

He, Ron, Ginny and the Twins had bonded over trying to spy on the secret meetings that took place nearly each week. He was really confused as to why Hermione and Fleur were allowed to be there, though. Especially when Mrs. Weasley had said the five of them weren’t allowed because they were still kids. Maybe it was because Hermione graduated. The Golden Girl had received her test results mid-August. All Outstandings and a few Exceeds Expectations, which somehow she seemed disappointed about. Then again, this was Hermione. Anything less than perfect wasn’t enough. He would really miss her this year but was excited for her opportunity.

Before he knew it, September first had come and he was being escorted to Kings Cross Station by a team of Aurors (all Order Members of course) and straight onto the Hogwarts Express to head back to school for the new term. He had chosen a quiet, empty compartment, settling in and watching the hustle and bustle as other students ran through the corridors trying to find their friends.

“Hiya Harry!”

“Hey, Neville!” He replied cheerfully, gesturing to the open spot across from him. “Please come in! I think that Ron and Ginny are just putting away their trunks and saying goodbye to their parents.”

The awkward boy shuffled in with a potted plant in the crook of his elbow. “Did you have a good holiday?”

“It was fine, rather uneventful. What about you?” Harry lied. He didn’t want to mention the Dementor attack or his trial. He couldn’t tell anyone about seeing Sirius, who was still a wanted man. Nor could he talk about the Order of the Phoenix, or at least what little bits he and the four youngest Weasleys had picked up through the Extendable Ears before Crookshanks started eating them. 

Then there was the whole matter of worrying about Voldemort returning. Everyone who came and went from Grimmauld Place seemed to be worried, or at least seemed to be taking the threat seriously. If people like Remus, Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley were concerned, he’d be a fool to disregard it. 

He really wished Hermione was around so he could talk to her. She would know what to do or at least have some clever theory. They had talked a bit at Grimmauld Place, but she and Fleur spent most of their time tucked away in their room with heavy wards over the door. He valued his life and his limbs being where they were and knew better than to interrupt… that. But she had left for her internship a week before he headed back to Hogwarts. Fleur had departed for France or wherever she was heading to shortly after the bushy-haired witch left.

He was glad that he got to spend what time he did manage with Hermione and Fleur and was truly happy that they were working out. He wondered how they would handle their relationship being so far apart. But if anyone could figure a way to manage it, it would be a Triwizard Champion and the Brightest Witch of Her Age.

“It was alright. Gran got me this here creeping pricklethorn. I guess she finally just accepted that I like plants and am not going to be a great duelist like my father nor a healer like my mother.”

Harry looked at the plant in question, it had long viney tendrils that curled on the end and tiny purple thorns.

“When this matures, the sap should be good for various potions!” Neville continued and started rattling off various facts about his plant. 

Harry just chuckled to himself. He had discovered that he and Neville actually had a lot in common. Both their parents had been in the original Order of the Phoenix, Sirius showed him an old picture. Both had lost their parents at an early age, though in different ways. Sirius wouldn’t tell him what happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom, just saying that it was a fate worse than death and he had the good sense not to pry. They had been raised by relatives who didn’t really like them. Neville had said that his Gran was trying to make him into his father and he felt ashamed that he would never meet her expectations. For him, the Dursleys just hated him and everything he represented, ruining their perfect image of ‘normalcy.’ 

After being roommates for four years, he knew that Neville was kind-hearted and loyal, shy and awkward. When Ron could be a bullheaded fool with the emotional range of a teaspoon, Neville was surprisingly thoughtful and empathetic. He wasn’t the typical Gryffindor, but he had courage and strength when he needed it. He remembered him standing up to him, Ron, and Hermione the night they tried to sneak out to get the Sorcerer’s Stone from Quirrell their first year. And he had been doing better at standing up to Malfoy’s incessant bullying. Maybe he was just a late bloomer.

“Harry?”

“What? Sorry, I spaced out there…”

“I asked if you had any idea who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor will be this year.” Neville repeated himself, not sounding annoyed though. 

“Dunno. But whoever it is can’t be worse than a Death Eater, right?”

Neville snorted “Right you are. I can’t believe it, and what’s weird is that there was no follow up at all. Like you’d think there would be some sort of investigation, right?”

Harry shrugged, he really had no clue about any of it. “Yeah… I reckon that’s a little strange.”

“Quibbler! Quibbler!” Luna’s airy voice drifted down the corridor of the train as she passed out her father’s newspapers. “Oh, hello Harry. Hello Neville. Would either of you care for a Quibbler?”

“Err, sure, Luna.” Harry fished out a few coins from his pocket and paid, even though Luna had tried to refuse his money at first. Something about being worried about a feather mite infestation in his pocket. With a smile, the dreamy Ravenclaw 4th year waved her wand to rid him of whatever invisible creatures were swarming him and continued along.

“Well, that was nice of her, I guess.” He scratched his forehead absentmindedly and opened the paper.

Neville was cooing softly to the plant, tickling its tendrils with the tip of his wand to encourage it to grow. 

Ron and Ginny joined them a few minutes later, and Luna came back once she had finished making her rounds. The five of them all chatted, ate snacks from the trolley and the 5th years lamented studying for the O.W.L.s without the aid of their favorite bookworm.

The Great Hall seemed smaller than he remembered, though probably because there was a distinct lack of foreign students wearing blue and red uniforms. He wondered if he would finally have a ‘normal’ year in which someone or something wasn’t trying to kill him. There was a soft chiming sound from the front of the Hall and everyone turned as Dumbledore stepped up to the podium.

“Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts!” He turned a kind eye to the line of young students standing in front of him, his bright blue eyes twinkling merrily “To our newest students, we welcome you to your home away from home. In a few minutes, Professor McGonagall will begin the Sorting Ceremony and you will take your seats with your classmates. But first, there are some new staffing introductions.”

Harry sat up, he had noticed two new faces at the staff table. And no Hagrid. That was strange.

“First, Professor Hagrid has had to take a temporary leave of absence to attend to some personal matters. His position will be filled by Miss Colette Bouchard until he returns from his business.” 

The brunette witch at the end of the staff table stood and nodded, offering a small smile before sitting down again. She looked relatively young, maybe in her late 30’s, possibly early 40’s. She had soft warm brown eyes, a pleasant smile, and dainty facial features. Her gentle brown waves framed her face and contrasted nicely with her blue robes.

“She comes highly recommended from Beauxbatons and I am grateful that she has agreed to join our teaching staff here at Hogwarts. Please give her a warm welcome.” Dumbledore clapped softly and the rest of the Hall echoed the gesture, giving her a polite welcome.

Harry furrowed his brow. She looked more like a librarian, like a young Madam Pince, not someone who would be teaching them about Blast-Ended Skrewts or Hippogriffs, which had been his experience with Care of Magical Creatures so far. Then again, he knew better than to judge people purely on looks. Appearances could be deceiving, after all. He could almost hear Hermione admonishing him for his thinking and he immediately felt remorseful, even if no one else was aware of the thoughts in his head.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued. “This year, the Defense Against the Dark Arts post will be filled by Miss Sage Westminster. Up until recently, Miss Westminster worked for the Ministry of Magic in an undisclosed department, and we are honored to have her joining our staff, bringing years of experience...”

“Blimey! She’s an Unspeakable! My dad mentioned them once.” Ron hissed across the table, pulling Harry’s attention from Dumbledore’s speech. Based on the hushed murmur spreading through the tables, he wasn’t the only one to have reached this conclusion.

“Unspeakable?” Harry furrowed his brow, a little annoyed, he was curious about the new professor. 

“Yeah, they work in the Department of Mysteries… they’re completely bound to secrecy. They even can overrule the Minister! Dad says that no one knows really what they do or how they do it or anything! It’s like… their jobs are complete mysteries and they can’t talk about it.”

“I gathered that much from the name, thanks, Ron.” Harry rolled his eyes then turned to look at the witch who had stood up after Dumbledore introduced her. 

She looked slightly older than the other new professor. She had smooth jet black hair, though several streaks of silvery-grays stuck out, and had it pulled back in a tight bun. Her eyes were pale blue, almost silver, and were sharp and piercing, as if she was analyzing everything around her. She had a strong jawline and prominent cheekbones. Everything about her seemed hard, stern. He had the feeling she was going to be a very no nonsense professor. Despite her cool and frankly intimidating demeanor, he was looking forward to her lessons. She looked like someone who had some real experience and he thought he could learn a lot from her.

“Wonderful, I believe that is all I have in terms of announcements, Professor McGonagall, if you would, please!” The Headmaster returned to his seat as McGonagall stepped forward and placed the Sorting Hat on its stool to start the Sorting Ceremony. 

Once the new students were sorted and seated, the feast started and it was business as normal. Ron ate like he had never seen food in his life, which was completely untrue, but without Hermione’s constant reminders, his table manners were worse than usual. Harry had learned to ignore it, but even he had to admit it was a little unsettling. 

He carefully cut up his piece of steak when he felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end. He looked over and saw that Westminster was staring at him intently. He ducked his head and tried to ignore it, feeling the piercing gaze move on after a few seconds.

After they were excused, he headed up to his dorm room and settled in before pulling out his DADA textbook. Without Hermione to keep an eye on him, he knew that he would have to do better at studying and was determined to exercise some discipline in the matter and would try to get a headstart.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sage Westminster walked silently through the quiet halls after everyone was asleep, her sharp eyes alert and her wand in her sleeve, ready to drop down into her hand at a moment’s notice. She walked with long, purposeful strides up to the seventh floor, pausing for a moment to stare at the tapestry hanging on the wall. It depicted a scene of Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach a group of trolls how to dance. She shook her head slightly and turned to face the opposite wall, pulling a small box out of her pocket, then she started to pace back and forth.


	30. Chapter 30

Professor Sage Westminster sighed and rubbed her temples as she walked, trying to ward off her oncoming headache. She had made it through her first week of teaching and she was looking forward to having some time over the weekend to recover and plan for her next week. And she was regretting her choice to live so far away. Unlike the other professors, she had taken a small cottage in Hogsmeade, just off the school grounds. It was still a 30 minute walk, thanks to Hogwart’s anti-Apparition wards. At least she could pack her books and folders in her enchanted bag so she didn’t have to worry about carrying an extra 20 pounds of stuff on her walk to and from the school. And the walk helped her clear her mind. Except the only thing on her mind at this moment was getting a fire going and having a piping hot cup of tea. 

Finally her quaint little cottage came into view and she almost broke out into a run in her eagerness to get off her feet. There was a healthy batch of creeping ivy vines that grew up the side of the small, single story, brick building and a sod path leading through small flower patches up to the red front door. If she had her choice she would have opted against plants, not being particularly skilled at herbology and keeping flowers alive, but it was what was available in the sleepy village and she couldn’t be too picky.

She unlocked her wards and entered and reset the defensive enchantments. When she had finished, she immediately sensed something was off. She proceeded cautiously, her wand drawn, quietly closing the door behind her. She crept down the narrow entry hallway, her eyes squinting against the darkness.

Suddenly a light flickered on just as she entered the sitting room and she whirled on the spot, her wand mid-flourish to hex the intruder.

Colette Bouchard giggled from the couch where she was casually reclined, twirling the ends of her brown hair through her nimble fingers. She smiled over at the stern witch and a soft giggle floated through the thick tension “Took you long enough. I almost sent a search party out for you.”

“Fleur! Damn it, I almost hexed you!” 

“Mmm, but you didn’t, mon amour.” Fleur dropped her glamour and sashayed over to her, her fingers walked up her arm and across her shoulder as she leaned in to kiss her. “As much fun as it might be to role play one day, I think we are both safe here and your disguise is not necessary anymore, oui?”

Hermione sighed and melted into the kiss, the visage of Sage Westminster melting away to reveal the young brunette witch. She threw her arms around the blonde’s neck, pulling her close for a proper greeting. She pulled away after several long moments, “How was your day, love?”

“It was good. One of the benefits of teaching an elective course is that I have very few classes to worry about. And the students seemed to enjoy interviewing the fairies who joined us for the day.”

“Lucky! The Slytherins were trying my patience beyond measure today. We’re starting this term with dueling and were discussing common dueling jinxes and their counter-jinxes and all they wanted to do was jinx each other without bothering about the defensive strategy! One benefit of being a professor is I can give Malfoy detention for being an arse. Not that I would ever abuse that power but I’ll admit that it’s sorely tempting. It’s rather aggravating, actually. Now that he thinks I’m interesting, he keeps trying to suck up and get on my good side. If only he knew, I think it would give him a heart attack!” 

“Well, it was your idea to return to Hogwarts as teachers… I can’t believe that you talked me into this and that Dumbledore went with it.” Fleur chuckled and guided them over to the couch, sitting down so that Hermione’s back was pressed to her front, the brunette settled between her legs.

“It made the most sense. We have access to resources we otherwise wouldn’t and can keep an eye on Harry and make sure he doesn’t do something to accidentally mess up the timeline. He means well but he can be so rash and quick to act without thinking. And this way we are close to Dumbledore and his Pensieve. Oh, that reminds me, we have a meeting with him tomorrow afternoon to look through some of his collected memories. And Hogwarts is safe. Need I remind you that there’s a stark raving mad woman looking for you? Voldemort and Bellatrix wouldn’t think to look for us here, nor do they have the strength to infiltrate.”

“That is all very true. And fortunately everyone seems to be less affected by my thrall, since they were all exposed last year and the new first years are too young to notice. What I don’t understand is why we have to live in Hogsmeade. There are plenty of available rooms for professors on the school grounds.”

“Because of that damn Marauder’s Map. If Harry was looking one night and saw ‘Hermione Granger’ or ‘Fleur Delacour’ running about, that might raise some questions. Especially when we’re supposed to be far away.”

“Fine. I suppose the exercise does us good, too. I miss running with you.” Fleur nodded, reaching up to dig her fingertips into Hermione’s shoulder muscles. “Do you think everyone bought our cover stories?”

“Well, one of the benefits of assuming the role of an Unspeakable, I have an excuse not to answer and everyone knows not to ask. And no one on staff is well acquainted enough with Madame Maxime to go poking into your backstory. Besides, the other schools are very private and don’t share information readily with others. I think we are fine, but we can keep our ears open for any suspicions.” Hermione sighed when she felt Fleur’s hands on her shoulders and lolled her head forward, allowing the blonde full access to give her a massage.

“So tense, mon amour.” Fleur hummed softly, continuing her gentle ministrations.

“Well, that’s to be expected when you have the weight of the future on your shoulders.” Hermione deadpanned, but leaned into Fleur’s touch, those magical fingers working out the tension. “I mean, we have so much to do. We have to find the Gaunt Ring, not to mention getting the Cup out of the Lestrange vault and finding a giant snake. Once we have all of the Horcruxes, we need to assemble the Order and pray that Voldemort falls for the trap. Ugh, I need to work on my basilisk poison at some point in time… It doesn’t make sense to collect the Horcruxes without a way to destroy them.” 

“Oui, there is a lot but think of what you’ve already accomplished. Dumbledore said he would handle getting Bill involved and convey the plan to get the Hufflepuff Cup. And you put the Locket into the Room of Requirement already, oui?”

“Ugh, thank you for reminding me that I need to make the duplicate Cup.” Hermione groaned softly. “But yes, the Locket is with the Diadem in the Room. I put it there the night of the Start of Term Feast.”

Fleur shook her head and wrapped her arms around the petite brunette, holding her close. “And Snape made it sound like he’s taken the bait about the prophecy, at least, so that should keep him occupied for a while. We know that his paranoia will make him fixate, at least. But I suppose that doesn’t stop Bellatrix or the others.”

“True, but he won’t let them do anything that could jeopardize his plans. Then we have to get Harry prepared for the Battle at the Ministry. We did a lot for him last year and he’s leaps and bounds ahead of where he was last time, but he can’t take on Voldemort and half a dozen Death Eaters. He’s going to need help. Which means we need to figure out a way to form Dumbledore’s Army without having the excuse of Umbridge breathing down our necks.” 

“Ah, oui… the Pepto-Bismol Toad you called her?” 

“Yes, she was horrible. Didn’t teach us anything, basically tortured us during detention with a blood quill, and just made life at Hogwarts bloody miserable with her Inquisitorial Squad. She even threatened to use the Cruciatus Curse on Harry! Merlin, I had forgotten about that… you best pray to your Goddess that you never meet her.” Hermione cringed at the memory and subconsciously rubbed the back of her hand.

“Mon Dieu… She sounds horrid.” Fleur murmured as she kissed Hermione’s neck, earning a nod and a happy sigh “So, why do we need Harry prepared? Can’t we just keep him out of the whole battle?”

“Well, as much as I’d like to, we need to be prepared for anything. If Voldemort finds out about their mental connection like he did last time, he is going to start planting visions in Harry’s mind of Sirius being tortured, setting a trap of his own. And because Harry is Harry, he’s going to run headlong into that fight. Hence Dumbledore’s Army. Ugh, that reminds me, I need to tell Dumbledore about Harry’s Legilimency and Occlumency lessons.”

“Can’t you just tutor him?”

“No. If he somehow breaks my barriers and sees my memories, he will know I’m not actually Professor Westminster.”

“Ah, good point.”

“And to top it all off, there’s just that little bit about finding some way to get that piece of Voldemort’s soul out of him, or this will all be for naught.” Hermione huffed “And I’m sure there’s something I’m missing but that’s all I’ve got for now.”

Fleur hummed softly “You need to relax, mon amour… and you forget that I am here and I can help with some of this. If you need me to go investigate for that Ring, I can do so. I have more free time than you.”

“Mmm, perhaps, but right now I just want to rest and snuggle with you.”

“That I can do.” Fleur got up and scooped the younger witch into her arms and carried her to the bedroom. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur woke the next morning to a bright beam of sunlight spilling through the window and into her eyes. She groaned softly and wrapped herself around Hermione’s lithe frame, burying her face into the unruly brown curls to try to hide from the offending light. As she did, she felt her body press against Hermione’s backside and…  _ damn it. _

It seemed that as their magical and emotional bonding continued to progress, her Veela was pushing her harder to complete the physical bonding, which she was still reluctant about. They had experimented with some gentle petting and touches, but nothing remotely close to actual intercourse yet. And it seemed that someone was getting impatient and was choosing this particular moment to make that well known. 

She carefully tried to extract herself from the mess of limbs and blankets but Hermione latched onto her arm and held her close, preventing her escape.

“Mmmph… please don’t go.” The brunette’s sleepy voice broke the morning’s silence.

Fleur blushed slightly, knowing that her mate could probably feel her growing issue pressing against her. 

“I don’t mind. And you’re warm.” Hermione turned around to face her, pressing their foreheads together before pulling away to look at her.

Fleur’s heart melted when she saw those sleepy brown eyes open. It was one of her favorite times of the day, seeing Hermione so relaxed and at peace when she first woke up. A glimpse of that youthful innocence that she was robbed of because of the horrors she had experienced in the previous timeline. It was just them.

“So… my birthday is coming up.”

“September 19, oui? Would you like anything in particular? I was going to make a special dinner and have a nice night in. I got the impression that you didn’t want to be out and about.”

“True and that sounds lovely… and I was thinking… I don’t really want anything. Just you.” The younger witch blushed slightly, “If you’re ready.” 

Fleur felt herself twitch in her sleeping shorts at the implication, her cheeks burned hot. Her Veela just about lost her shit with excitement, she could practically feel her jumping around inside her head. “If you want me, then you shall have me,” she managed to squeak out.

The Gryffindor smiled and planted a quick kiss on her lips before rolling out of bed.

She couldn’t help but pout at the loss of heat next to her “What happened to being warm?”

“Sorry, love. Morning calls. And I just remembered that I have Saturday breakfast and hall duty to report to soon. I think I’ve already developed a reputation for being more of a stickler than Snape!” The brunette called from the en suite.

The blonde grumbled slightly and rolled out of the bed, waving her wand to smooth out the sheets and fluff the pillows before making her way to the kitchen to start tea and a light breakfast for herself.

The new DADA professor emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, full glamour already in place. She quickly kissed her while she sat at the table reading the morning edition of the Daily Prophet and swept out of their cottage to head up to the school with a gentle reminder to be at Dumbledore’s office at 3pm.

Fleur spent part of the morning tidying up their house while she waited for her not-so-little issue to go away, though they spent so little time here that there wasn’t much to be done. She had never considered herself to be particularly maternal or domestic, but it warmed her inside and out to think that maybe this could be their future if they were successful. That she and Hermione might one day have a home together where they could raise a family. She blushed at the thought, especially given what Hermione had wanted for her birthday gift. Maybe one day. Hopefully one day.

Once she had finished around the house, she headed up to the school under the glamour of Colette Bouchard. She made a quick detour to check on her fairy guests who had agreed to stay for a few weeks to assist her with her lessons. They had established a little camp on the edge of the Black Lake and seemed to be settling in nicely. 

At a few minutes to 3, she approached the stone gargoyle, checking that the hallway was empty before speaking the password, “Peppermint patty.” 

The statue shuddered and jumped to the side to reveal the door and she quickly ascended the spiraling stairs up to the Headmaster’s office.

“Ah, Professor Bouchard, I’m glad you made it. Please take a seat. Professor Westminster should be along momentarily.”

Fleur nodded and took an open seat opposite of Dumbledore. She didn’t drop her glamour, just in case someone stumbled in on their meeting. 

At precisely 3pm, the stone eagle statue guarding the upper entrance to the Headmaster’s office swiveled, revealing a calm and composed Professor Westminster. 

“My apologies for being late.” Hermione ducked her head apologetically. 

“Not to worry, you’re exactly on time.” Dumbledore smiled and placed his protection wards to ensure they were not interrupted.

Both witches dropped their glamours once the coast was clear.

“A good afternoon to you both,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled brightly “I trust you are having a pleasant first week and are settling in well?”

Both women responded with a simple ‘yes’ and the headmaster got straight to business. With a flourish of his wand, the silver disk of the Pensieve emerged from its place and floated across thin air, coming to a stop about a foot from where the witches were standing.

“Now, as I mentioned, I had done some research into Tom Riddle’s history when he was a student here and I have managed to collect a few memories that I hope you will find useful.” The white-haired wizard summoned a small vial that contained an opaque swirling silvery liquid. The tag on the vial said M.G.

Though she had never used a Pensieve before, Fleur recognized that these were memories, having seen her own grandmother store her memories of Veela rites and history from the Clan. The Veela wrote almost no books about themselves, instead passing knowledge from generation to generation via memories.

“Are you ready?” Dumbledore held the vial aloft, tilted almost on its side but not enough to release the contents.

Fleur gently grasped Hermione’s hand and interlocked their fingers, which would allow them to both enter the memory together, but moved over slightly so they wouldn’t bump heads when they dove in. 

Once he received an affirmative nod, the aged wizard poured the silver liquid into the Pensieve and both women entered the Pensieve, face first.

“Father! Please don’t do this! Morfin was unmarried and had no offspring before he died. This child will be your heir!” A young woman was on her knees, pleading before a man sitting in a moth-eaten, misshapen arm chair. Her robes were tattered and poor, her face was sickly, malnourished, and hollow. Dark hair hung in greasy strands about her face. But it was her eyes that struck Fleur to the core and made her heart ache, even though she did not know this woman. She looked desperate, absolutely defeated. Hopeless.

She looked around the rest of the room, what she could make out from the vague details before they morphed into mist. The state of the room was abysmal, hardly livable, but it looked like it might have once been a beautiful parlor before it fell into ruin. There were boxes of empty bottles of fire whisky and other alcohol lining the walls. The grand hearth was barely lit, casting an eerie glow about the space. 

“Silence, Merope!” You have brought nothing but shame and dishonor upon the House of Gaunt. I would rather my line ended with Morfin than see your bastard child.” The seated man looked slovenly and unkept. His dark eyes held nothing but hate and contempt toward the woman before him, his own daughter. It made Fleur’s blood boil to think of how he treated his family, his own flesh and blood. 

“He’s not a bastard! Tom and I married…” Merope wailed, her thin fingers clutching at the ends of his robes.

“That would have been a greater service. He’s a Muggle!” The man spat angrily “Why aren’t you crawling to him for support?”

“Because he doesn’t want me, when he found out what I am…”

“Well, he’s not alone. We have no room for blood traitors in this House. Now, get out.” With that he raised his right hand and brought it down hard across her face. The last thing Fleur saw before the memory faded to mist was a ring with a large black stone.

Fleur gasped for breath when she pulled herself from the Pensieve. Hermione was doing the same, the gears visibly turning in her head as she tried to process the vision they had witnessed. Her own blood was burning with fury at the way the man had treated his daughter. His  _ pregnant _ daughter. To cast her out because she loved a Muggle. It went against everything she had ever been taught about family.

“Sir… was that…” Hermione stammered.

“Yes, Miss Granger. That was Tom’s mother, Merope Gaunt, the night Marvolo Gaunt turned his back on her and disowned her.” Dumbledore had moved over to his desk where he was selecting a lemon drop from his candy dish.

“How did you get that memory?”

“It wasn’t difficult, actually. Marvolo had a habit of drinking himself to a stupor each night.” Dumbledore shrugged as he waved his wand to collect the memory and replace it in the vial. “He gave his consent for me to extract whatever I wanted in exchange for a bottle of whisky…”

“What happened to her after this?” Fleur cut in.

“Ah, I have that as well… this time from a nurse who worked at the orphanage where I found Tom when he was a boy.”

The next memory was short as well, it showed the young woman in childbirth. Once the baby was delivered, she held him once, whispering the name Tom Marvolo Riddle before life left her, her will to fight finally exhausted.

“What else can you tell us? Things you remember about him when he was younger?” Hermione had extracted a roll of parchment and her special quill that Fleur gave her for Christmas. 

It calmed Fleur a little to see that her mate still used her feather quill, she liked seeing the royal blue and silver tipped feather between the Golden Girl’s fingers.

“Unfortunately the other memories I have about Tom at Hogwarts are minimal. He was an exceptional student. He was quiet and kept to himself mostly, making little effort to make friends when he first arrived here. Though if I recall he became a bit of a bully as he aged and started building a following among his peers. And he held grudges against those who wronged him. When we first met, he told me that he could speak to snakes, which is something that caught my interest and sparked my desire to learn more about his lineage.” 

“Because the only descendants of Slytherin are true Parseltongues.” Hermione mused out loud, her quill scratching away.

“Right you are… I have a memory of young Tom talking with his professor first mentioning ‘Horcrux,’ but it has been tampered with. But given what you have told me, it seems that he learned how to make them, so finding the untampered memory seems rather moot.”

Hermione finished writing out her thoughts before looking to Dumbledore “That reminds me. How is it going with recruiting Bill Weasley to the Order?”

“He is on board.” Dumbledore smiled softly “Why?”

“We have a special mission for him, if he is willing to take it. There is a Horcrux in the Lestrange vault.”

“Hmm… breaking into Gringotts. Almost as foolish as trying to break into Hogwarts. The goblins are not to be trifled with,” watery blue eyes twinkled behind half-moon frames. 

“True. But as a Curse Breaker, he would have access to the vault if he was put on the team that does the routine internal defense checks.” Fleur explained, drawing on her own experiences as a Curse Breaker to fill in the gaps for the others.

Dumbledore listened, his fingertips drumming together. “Consider this done.”

“Before we do, I need to make the replica, so in the off chance she visits her vault, Bellatrix wouldn’t notice it missing.”

“You think Madame Lestrange would walk into Gringotts to access her vault?”

“Well, I did,” Hermione snorted then elaborated slightly, “Polyjuice Potion.”

Dumbledore smiled “I see the Sorting Hat really did place you correctly. I always thought you would be better off in Ravenclaw, but you have undeniable bravery to you. What else do you need assistance with?”

“Well, we need to find the Gaunt Ring. We know that he hid the Horcruxes in significant locations. It would probably be best that we went to the Gaunt residence and started from there.”

“I can give you the location.” Dumbledore held his wand tip to his temple and extracted the memory before implanting it into Hermione’s head.

The brunette staggered a little, softly whispering “whoa” as the memory entered her mind.

“Apologies for the disorientation but you need the physical memory in order to Apparate, seeing it in a Pensieve is not enough.”

“It’s fine, sir. Thank you. I think we have enough to go on for now.”

“Good, I’ll make sure you both are off of hall duty tomorrow so you can begin your quest. And do take a lemon drop before you go,” he held out the candy dish to Professors Bouchard and Westminster as they turned to leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @Kali_clash_blue for the best description of Umbridge. I just had to use it.
> 
> Also, messing a little with the Gaunt history, I know that Morfin went to Azkaban, but I'm just keeping it simple and saying he died.


	31. NSFW - Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the title of this chapter says it all. But the scene that many of us have been waiting for. But if you’re not into some good ol’ girl-girl lovin’, this is a chapter to skip.

It was a busy couple of weeks for the witches posing as the two newest Hogwarts professors. They managed to visit the old Gaunt Mansion, which was in an even worse state of disrepair from what they remembered seeing in the memory Dumbledore had shown them. Unfortunately Fleur had sensed no Dark magical objects after thoroughly inspecting the place and they had to start thinking of alternatives. 

Fleur suggested going to the Riddle house next. While she was not particularly fond of returning to the graveyard and the house on the hill, they had no other leads. Hermione reluctantly acquiesced and they planned to go the first weekend in October.

But first things first. It was September 19th, and Hermione’s birthday.

Hermione had barely stepped inside before Fleur pounced and had the door closed, the wards in place and their lips firmly latched together. Both of their illusions dropped instantly and they fell into a passionate embrace right in the entry hallway.

She sighed softly, loving the feel of Fleur’s perfectly plump lips moving across her own. The blonde took advantage of the brief moment her lips had parted and darted her tongue out, sliding it across her own lower lip, begging entrance, which was immediately granted. Her hands flew to the back of Fleur’s head and her fingers wove themselves into silvery-blonde mane, tugging gently, encouraging her.

The Frenchwoman responded in kind, one hand in her curls, the other holding her lower back to bring their bodies close and guide her further into their little cottage. Still not quite familiar with their house’s dimensions, she accidentally backed Hermione into a wall. Before she could rectify the situation, both her mate and her Veela purred their approval and she deepened her kiss as she pressed her body firmly against the brunette. She shifted herself so that one leg was on either side of Hermione’s right leg as she started to rock her body, trying to remove any space between them.

Hermione felt like she was on fire as excitement, magic and raw energy coursed thickly through her veins and muscles. Every nerve and fiber of her being was ready. She loved that Fleur was stepping out of her cautious zone and being more assertive. She suspected the Veela had something to do with that, this was very unlike Fleur.

The wall had been a pleasant and unexpected surprise. There was something about the display of power and dominance and her not being in control for once. But also trust and knowing that it would stop if she told Fleur to stop. She rolled her hips forward, grinding against the strong thigh pressed between her legs. 

They stood this way for several minutes, passionately kissing while their bodies moved together, hands eagerly roaming and exploring. The only sounds that could be heard in the house were from their kisses, moans, and desperate gasps for air.

Hermione’s hands slipped under the hem of Fleur’s sweater and gripped the smooth skin of her waist, her fingertips pressing in slightly. 

Fleur paused and took a step back, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to steady her breathing. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the grey knit sweater before her, concealing her mate’s body. She stepped forward again and reached out and tugged on the bottom of the offending sweater, pulling it over her head and tossing it somewhere less important. Pale hands immediately found their way back to the freshly exposed skin. Instead of resuming their kiss, the blonde tilted her head down and kissed along her jaw, nibbling gently as she kissed her way from her chin to her ear.

Hermione couldn’t help the deep moan that escaped her lips as her girlfriend kissed along the shell of her ear, then down her neck. Those wonderfully soft pink lips alternated between firm sucks and nibbles and ghosting lightly across the skin, hot breath tickling her all the while. Her eyes shut tight and she moved her neck to give as much access as possible. She was grateful for the wall steadying her and keeping her upright, otherwise she might have fallen over.

Nimble fingers worked their way behind her back and swiftly unclasped her bra. She rolled her shoulders slightly to help get it off. Before Fleur could resume her kissing, she tugged on the blonde’s sweater, which quickly found her way to the floor, along with her bra.

They reached for each other and pulled their bodies close once more, revelling in the skin-on-skin contact. She could feel the prominent bulge in Fleur’s pants straining against the fabric and she carefully reached down and palmed it. She felt it twitch a little under her touch and she pressed her hand against it again.

“‘Ermione,” the part-Veela growled as she detached their lips. Her heavily lidded crystal blue eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. She could see the dark hunger in them, full love and lust.

She nodded once “It’s okay… I’m ready if you are.”

In a surprising display of strength, the Frenchwoman suddenly reached down and grasped her by the back of her legs right under her bum, pulling her up to straddle her waist as she carried her down the hallway toward their bedroom. She instinctively clung, wrapping her arms and legs around the lithe frame, though she knew that Fleur wouldn’t drop her.

Once she was carefully deposited on the bed, she wiggled out of her jeans, leaving just her knickers on. Though there really wasn’t a point, they were already slick with her arousal. 

The blonde woman was standing a few feet away, staring at her, eyes hungrily watching as she undressed herself. But despite her earlier excitement, she seemed hesitant once more. Her hands slowly made their way to her pants and unbuttoned them, sliding them down and kicking them away to reveal her own modified knickers. They reminded Hermione of Muggle mens’ briefs. She stood there, practically naked, her cock hard and straining against its thin fabric prison. But she looked at odds with herself, having an internal debate.

Hermione slid off the bed and carefully reached out to her mate, gently touching her arm, unsure of what she needed to settle her nerves. “It’s okay, Fleur. We don’t have to.”

That snapped Fleur out of her haze. “But I want to, ‘Ermione… I want to make love to you. I want to claim you as my mate and for you to claim me. I just… The Veela is pushing so hard right now. I can’t tell if it’s me or her. I want to be the one with you, not her.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed for a moment then she got an idea. She moved away from the blonde and started rummaging in her trunk.

“‘Ermione?” Fleur’s voice was quiet, clearly confused. She could practically see her tilting her head adorably as she tried to figure out what she was doing.

After a moment she found what she was looking for. She picked up the delicate silver chain and touched one of the golden rings “Are _you_ in control?”

“Oui.” The word slipped out so quietly it was a miracle that either of them heard.

And with that confirmation, she put her necklace back in the mahogany box and got onto the bed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur couldn’t believe it. Hermione had used one of her questions to put her mind at ease and quell her anxiety. That one word, spoken out of truth and from her heart, put all of her fears and doubts aside. Her love for her mate swelled in her chest and she crawled up on the bed next to her, lying on her side tucked against the Golden Girl. She cupped the brunette’s jaw in one hand, staring deeply into those chocolate orbs that she loved so much before leaning in and kissing her softly and tenderly.

Without removing her lips, she rolled onto her knees, the weight of her upper body held up on a bent elbow, her forearm parallel to Hermione’s ribs. Her free hand slid down from its place on her mate’s jaw and worked its way down her body, making a quick stop at her chest before moving lower. Her fingers stopped at the band of her knickers, the thin fabric was the only thing separating her from the place she had not yet touched her mate. Cautiously, her fingers slipped under the band and started to pull.

Hermione rolled her hips up to make it easier for her to remove the last article of clothing. The brunette’s hand had made its way to her cock, slender fingers tracing the outline as it pushed against her own undergarments. Then that wonderful hand dipped inside, touching her directly for the first time.

She gasped at first contact, startled at first by the warm skin on her length. As she relaxed again, her eyes slipped closed and she sighed softly at the delicate touch. She rocked her hips forward, pressing herself against the hand. “Mmm, that feels nice.” 

As Hermione started to stroke her length, her own hands were caressing the smooth skin of her mate’s bare inner thighs, working their way up to the apex. She could already smell her arousal, the scents made her head swim, and she wanted to get to the source.

Her eyes nearly rolled back inside her head when she first felt the slick, warm folds. “‘Ermione…” She murmured softly as her fingers ran along the length of her lips.

Hermione shifted her legs, spreading them slightly wider to give her more access and her hand eagerly explored this uncharted territory, revelling in the way everything felt.

“Please, Fleur… I want to feel you.” Hermione’s voice was deep and husky, her words punctuated by her uneven breaths.

She nodded slowly and sat up, her eyes drinking in the sight of her mate’s naked form on the bed. She finally removed her own briefs, her cock springing free, standing proudly at attention.

“Wow… it’s… even bigger than I thought.” Hermione murmured. She had leaned up, resting on her elbows to watch her undress fully.

Fleur chuckled softly and looked down to examine herself. She had never understood why men seemed so worried about their size, but she had to admit a sense of pride at Hermione’s compliment. Her Veela preened in the back of her mind. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Yes, just… go slow?”

“Of course, mon amour,” she agreed and carefully moved to the space between Hermione’s legs, gazing lovingly at the bare sex in front of her. Like herself, the brunette kept herself well trimmed, a carefully maintained triangular patch of dark brown curls pointing suggestively downward. The soft pink lips were glistening slightly and she had to fight with herself not to get distracted and start touching them again.

She leaned forward on top of her mate and came to rest on her elbows. Their torsos pressed together, her weight resting partially on Hermione, the rest on her arm.

She stared into Hermione’s dark brown eyes for a moment before tilting her face down to kiss her, their tongues moving slowly around one another, not rushing anything. As they kissed, her free hand moved down to grasp her cock, guiding it between the slick folds of her mate’s sex. She could feel it jump excitedly in her hand, as if anticipating what was to come. 

Hermione gasped and clutched the blankets when she felt the head pressing against her. Her head tilted to the side and her hips gave an encouraging roll as she felt the top of the cock tease her entrance.

“‘Ermione, please look at me. I want to see you.” Fleur husked as she lined herself up.

Hermione quickly complied and they held eye contact as Fleur pushed herself in for the first time. 

Both women gasped simultaneously, mouths agape, their eyes slipping shut at the initial penetration. Overwhelmed, Fleur buried her face in the crook of Hermione’s neck, panting hard through uneven breaths and Hermione’s hands flew to Fleur’s back, her fingertips digging into the tense muscles.

Fleur had never felt anything so amazing before. The silken walls squeezed her tightly, sending a ripple of pleasure coursing through her body. She was only an inch or so in, barely the tip, but she felt like she was on top of the world. Her cock ached for more. As much as she wanted to go for it, she paused, realizing that Hermione had gone very still beneath her.

“‘Ermione, are you okay?”

Her mate took several deep breaths before answering “Yes… It was just a lot of pressure all at once. I’m okay now and I think I’m ready for more.”

Fleur nodded and slowly pressed her hips forward, rocking them gently, as she pushed in a little further into Hermione’s warmth. She stopped immediately when she heard Hermione hiss out.

“Wait…”

She froze, dutifully waiting until the tight muscles relaxed again and she resumed her gentle thrusts.

This repeated several more times, but eventually her cock was fully sheathed within her mate’s core. They were both breathing erratically and needed to take a break to calm themselves down and adjust to the feelings they were experiencing.

Fleur could feel the muscles of Hermione’s inner walls contracting, gripping her tightly, squeezing her length. She wrapped her arms under Hermione’s shoulders, her hands cradling her head through the pillow. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” Hermione whispered softly in her ear.

Cautiously she rolled her hips back, withdrawing a few inches. Her cock instantly missed the warmth and she pushed her hips forward, burying herself once again, earning a pleased moan from her mate. It sounded like the sweetest music to her ears and she was eager to hear it again, slowly withdrawing and pushing forward once more.

She started off slowly, hesitant to go any faster than the gentle pace she had set. When she felt her mate start to move in time with her thrusts, she picked up the pace, grunting softly with effort, her skin dampening with sweat.

Hermione’s hands had curled under her arms and were clutching the tops of her shoulders tightly, squeezing hard with each forward push. Her soft pink lips were parted and she moaned and gasped deliciously in her ear.

Not satisfied with her current range of motion, she leaned up, settling on her knees, gripping Hermione’s hips and lifting them slightly as she started to thrust harder. At this angle she could feel her cock moving across a slightly rough patch on Hermione’s front wall. Every time she hit this spot, the brunette would gasp out loudly and her body would shiver, so she did her best to aim for this with each forward movement. She could feel her mate’s body tensing up, like a spring begging to be released. Her slick walls pulsed and squeezed her length, which only added to her own pleasure and she felt her cock start to throb.

She leaned forward as she continued to rut into her mate’s core, coaxing them both toward their climaxes. As soon as she felt the coil snap and heard the first moans of Hermione’s orgasm, she lowered her head and bit down hard on the soft curve where her neck and shoulder met. She could taste the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth but she couldn’t stop or release her bite, not until it was returned.

Hermione cried out, her body shaking as her climax ripped through her. But when she felt Fleur’s bite on her neck, it amplified everything she was feeling ten-fold and her body shuddered uncontrollably. On instinct, she mirrored Fleur’s action and bit down in the same spot on the blonde’s neck, right at the pulsepoint, her teeth breaking the skin.

When she felt Hermione return the mating bite, everything within her came to a peak. Her head swam with pleasure and she knew she was seconds away from her own climax. With one powerful thrust, she buried herself entirely and her body was rocked by her orgasm and her motions slowed as she released her essence deep inside her mate. 

They stayed in this position for several long moments, both coming down from their high, breathing deeply through their noses since their mouths were otherwise occupied. Once they were calmer, they both released their hold on the other’s neck and collapsed on the bed, feeling utterly spent and wonderfully satisfied.

Fleur stayed on top of Hermione for another minute, not wanting to leave the comforting warmth of her sex, lazily thrusting before she finally pulled out and rolled onto her back with a satisfied sigh. She turned her head to the side to gaze at her mate. Her Veela swelled with pride when she saw the mark they had left on her mate’s neck, though the wound would need to be disinfected and tended to soon.

“Wow.” Hermione finally managed to speak, turning to look at her. The Golden Girl’s hair was wild and untamed, her cheeks flushed and eyes slightly out of focus. 

Fleur thought she had never looked more beautiful and she reached over to gently stroke her cheek. “Are you feeling okay, ma belle?”

Hermione nodded “I feel… pleasantly fucked. And really tired. That was amazing”

“It was… better than I ever imagined.” Fleur laughed softly and summoned two glasses from the kitchen, filling them both with water as they entered the room. “Thirsty?”

“Merlin, yes!” She reached for her glass and drank greedily. 

Fleur did the same, the cool water soothed her aching throat. Apparently she had been breathing harder than she realized and her throat was raw. After she drank her water, she rolled off the bed and scooped Hermione into her arms, carrying her bridal style toward the bathroom so they could clean up and tend to their bites. 

Both she and her Veela were bursting with pride. She and Hermione were officially mated and from here on out, their bond would only continue to grow and strengthen. She smiled to herself when she felt her mate’s head lull onto her chest. “Je t’aime, mon coeur.”

“Je t’aime, aussi.” Hermione replied sleepily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... I can write better smut than this... guess I’ll just have to do another scene later to make it up to you all... but for their first time I figured awkwardness had to be there.


	32. Chapter 32

Once they were officially a mated pair, Fleur’s Veela calmed down, content that they had finally completed their physical bonding. Feeling secure with the status of their relationship, she stopped actively pushing Fleur and took a more passive role again. Though she did occasionally urge Fleur to dote on her mate, she understood their need for secrecy and didn’t push too hard when the blonde ignored her suggestions. 

For Fleur, however, it was like a switch had turned on in her brain and she could not keep her hands off Hermione once they were in the privacy of their cottage. She felt a little guilty that in her excitement she had rushed their first experience and made sure to dedicate more time to foreplay and fully pleasuring her mate. She started to learn the subtle cues from the brunette, taking her time to figure out what she liked best and what didn’t work. Hermione was doing the same for her. Now that she felt more comfortable with her body, she allowed Hermione to take more control and experiment. They spent their evenings trying new things. Hermione started making a list of everything and the pros and cons, almost like she was turning it into a university thesis study, which Fleur found adorable and ‘classic Hermione’ but it was a lesson they both thoroughly enjoyed.

Even with their nightly love making, the two women managed to continue to chip away at their to-do list while maintaining their facades and teaching responsibilities. 

Hermione started an advanced dueling club, which was the closest thing to Dumbledore’s Army she could manage without raising suspicion. And it made sense. She was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, after all. And Hogwarts desperately needed one, the last attempt had ended in utter failure under the terrible misguidance of Gilderoy Lockhart. Even though she had earned the reputation for being a stern, no nonsense professor, it seemed that the students respected her and were eager to learn from her and the roster filled quickly with fourth year students and above.

Of course Harry had joined right away, along with most of the original DA members, which pleased her. It would allow her to monitor everyone’s progress and ensure they had mastered the necessary skills. The club held an election for various leadership roles. Harry, being a Triwizard Champion as well as a skilled duelist (thanks to her and Fleur’s lessons last year), was unanimously elected president and she was able to take a more passive role, allowing him the freedom to set the meetings and even help with instructing the others. She knew this would help him gain the confidence he lacked as a leader so that when the time came, he could rally the others to help him infiltrate the Ministry. If it came to that. She hoped it could be avoided, but she wasn’t about to rule out the possibility.

She had managed to make some progress toward earning his trust, divulging to him in private that she was in the Order and believed that Voldemort had returned. Harry, being Harry, was eager to talk with her when he heard this and he seemed to accept that she wasn’t a complete nutter. She needed him to willingly share what he was seeing of Voldemort in his dreams so she could gauge the events in this timeline compared to last. She needed to be the one he came to if and when he started seeing visions of Sirius being tortured so that she and Fleur could get the Order ready. She hated using him like this but she justified that it was all for the best that he be kept in the dark about the bigger issues at hand. He already knew that Voldemort was back and he made it clear that he wanted to fight. Add that to his ‘act now think later’ tendencies and he could easily jeopardize everything without meaning to.

To share the load, Fleur helped with the basilisk poison and managed to render it down to a high enough concentration that it should destroy a Horcrux. At least theoretically. Unfortunately they couldn’t test it without alerting Voldemort. She also made tiny capsules of the poison, getting the idea from cyanide pills she had seen in a Muggle spy movie she had seen in the previous timeline. The plan was to distribute the pills to the Order members in case they got captured. Hopefully the pills wouldn’t be necessary but they were taking every precaution they could. 

She and Hermione had spent some time making the fake galleons with the Protean Charm. Hermione told her that it was how the original Dumbledore’s Army communicated their next meeting and it would be a subtle way to send messages with the Order members. It was rudimentary, but since all they needed to do was to send the time and date that the Battle of the Ministry was going to take place, the fake Galleons would suffice. It was better than sending Patronus messages at least.

Everything was falling slowly into place. All they had to do was find that damned Ring. The original plan to go in early October got pushed back a couple of weeks but they finally managed to arrange time off grounds with Dumbledore just before Halloween.

_ Pop! _

Hermione and Fleur appeared out of thin air in the graveyard outside Little Haggleton, both disguised as their professor selves. The air was cool and crisp, as expected for a fall night, but there was an eerie tension that hung heavy in the air.

“I hate this place.” Fleur murmured as she looked around. They had arrived next to the Riddle Mausoleum, all signs of the resurrection ritual had been cleared away and it looked like it hadn’t been disturbed in years. That was not true, of course, they had been here just a few months earlier and the place was far from abandoned.

Hermione shivered and held her wand aloft “I do not like this one bit. Let’s just hurry up and check. I was really expecting the Ring to be at the Gaunt house…”

“Oui, I was, too. But I guess he couldn’t make it too easy… I just can’t think of anywhere else he would have thought significant in his miserable life. I mean, what could be so important to a mass murderer hell bent on essentially enslaving the world and killing all that would seek to oppose him?” Fleur’s voice was getting increasingly agitated as she started to rant. 

Hermione recognized the sudden shift in personality. It reminded her of those times when having to wear the Slytherin Locket made them switch into irritable and irrational versions of themselves. Or rather, drawing out the frustration they were already feeling and amplifying it. She had seen the shift in Fleur when they had found the Locket at Grimmauld Place, but it was more subtle. 

She wondered if it had to do with the potency of the piece of soul in each Horcrux. Perhaps there was a correlation between the order in which the Horcrux was made to how ‘strong’ it was. It made sense, since each time a Horcrux was made, it split the maker’s soul. So theoretically if the Gaunt Ring was made first, then the soul trapped inside would be roughly half of Voldemort’s soul. The next would split Voldemort’s half-soul in his body, so the Horcrux would only be half as powerful and so on. Which would be good if this were the case, for it would mean that the piece of Voldemort inside Harry was minimal and hopefully easier to destroy. Maybe. She could hope at least. She still had no idea how to save Harry.

“Fleur…” She interrupted the Frenchwoman, who had reverted back to her mother language at some point and was flailing her arms angrily. 

_ “Quoi?!” _

“Can you sense anything?”

Fleur huffed but stopped her ranting and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath “Oui, there is something here. I’m surprised I didn’t feel it when we were here before.”

“Probably because we were surrounded by a Dark magic ritual?” Hermione tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, not wanting to agitate her mate any further. “Why don’t you try to take a step back, I’ll go check the tomb.”

“Absolutely not. You are not going alone.” Fleur snapped quickly.

Hermione held up her hands passively “Alright, alright.” She turned and headed toward the mausoleum, casting a few detection spells. As she was reaching out to touch the handle, Fleur’s hand shot out to stop her. 

“Wait, there is a powerful ward.” 

Hermione nodded and took a step back, allowing the ex-Curse Breaker to get to work. She was amazed by seeing Fleur in action as the part-Veela slipped back into her old profession, waving her wand in long fluid movements, muttering various incantations she had never heard of before. She would have to ask her to teach her some of those spells when they had time. She couldn’t help but feel her chest swell with pride watching her work. Fleur would have made a fantastic Defense professor, she thought to herself. 

After about 20 minutes, there was a crackling noise as Fleur broke through the barrier and the door swung open. 

“Do not touch anything,” she warned as she walked in, her wand tip lit.

Hermione followed suit, proceeding with caution and taking her cues from Fleur, she was the expert in this situation after all. Her own skills were more tailored to battle and dueling or behind the scenes researching. She had to admit, it was rather exciting and she could see why her mate was drawn to the dangerous profession in the first timeline. 

The room inside was small, dark and extremely dusty. There was a narrow walking space, about six feet wide and fifteen feet deep. The walls had little compartments built in with names etched on gilded plates, each spot holding the remains of Riddles of the past. 

Fleur stopped them again when she detected another barrier. This one was a blood ward, one of the trickiest ones to break through. Only one with Voldemort’s blood could get through.

“Mon coeur, when they resurrected Voldemort… they used your blood?”

Hermione shuddered at the memory, subconsciously rubbing her left forearm where the long scar was glamoured away, “Yes, why?”

“Well, this ward is based on his blood… which technically then is also your blood. It’s a long shot, but it might work… We should go outside in case this fails and a trap is activated.”

Hermione nodded, understanding what Fleur was suggesting. She turned and left the small tomb, grateful for the fresh air. She hadn’t realized how stifling the air was inside. Fleur joined her a moment later, staring at her apologetically, her icy sapphires swam with pain at the thought of what had to be done.

“I’m so sorry, mon coeur.” The blonde held her wand tip to her palm and cut a small incision. She allowed the blood to pool for a moment before collecting it into an orb, which she levitated inside. “Get ready to Apparate if this goes wrong.”

Hermione nodded and gripped Fleur’s arm tight, ready to turn on the spot. She felt her mate tense up as she pressed the sphere of blood to the ward’s boundary.

There was a loud crack and suddenly the sound of shifting stones.

“Did it work?” She craned her neck to look inside, which was useless because there was no source of light inside. But nothing was coming out at them either, which was a good sign.

“Oui. I believe it did.” Fleur walked forward cautiously, her wand tip lit once more.

The two witches went back inside the tomb. Hermione noted that the air didn’t feel quite as heavy as before. One of the compartments had popped open, the name plate read  _ “Tom Riddle 1905-1943.” _ She took a deep breath and looked to Fleur, who simply nodded and used her wand to push the tiny door open more, revealing a pile of bones, minus a femur, and tattered pieces of cloth. 

“The vacuum must have kept these preserved.” Fleur noted quietly, carefully shifting the bones around with a modified levitation spell “There is definitely something very Dark here.”

“There!” Hermione hissed when she saw the glint of metal illuminated by the cool blue light of her Lumos spell. The Ring was on the left hand, on the ring finger. 

Nothing happened when Fleur tried to summon it, so she reached forward, probably drawn to its Dark thrall.

“Don’t touch it!” Hermione hissed and snatched the blonde’s hand to safety. “It has a necrotic spell on it. It caused Dumbledore’s whole hand to die when he touched it.”

“So he put the Ring on his father to kill him slowly and painfully then turned it into a Horcrux? That is one hell of a grudge.” Fleur shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the Ring’s influence.

“Well, this was the man who completely abandoned him and his mother, I guess it makes sense?” Hermione offered. “And it’s placed where a wedding band should be. Perhaps to symbolize him skipping out on his family? I don't know what else Voldemort would have been thinking. What I find strange is that he would want to have any connection with the Riddles. I mean, his father was a Muggle, why would he want to acknowledge that? 

Fleur just huffed and didn't respond.

"Sorry, I just think it's rather strange that a half-blood is the leader of a pure-blood supremacist group.” Hermione finished her thought. She didn't care about 'blood status' but the hypocrisy made her blood boil a little. 

Fleur shrugged, still eyeing the bones. “So, how are we going to get it if we can’t touch it?”

“Well, we can’t touch the Ring… but if we can summon the finger?”

Fleur groaned “I really hate this man. I do not like the idea of disturbing the dead… it’s unnatural.”

“I know, but it must be done.” Hermione quietly summoned the finger, pulling a displeased face as it hovered it in front of her, trying to figure out what to do with it. She reached into her beaded bag and withdrew her trusty mason jar, plopping the finger and Horcrux inside and closing the jar. “Hopefully that works. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“No need to tell me twice.” Fleur hurried outside, pulling her mate along. Once there she put up the exterior ward again to cover any evidence of their presence. She couldn’t put up the blood ward again, but hopefully if there was no reason for anyone to believe the place had been tampered with they wouldn’t go checking inside.

With a loud crack they Apparated back to Hogsmeade and hurried to the safety of their cottage.

“Three down… two to go. Assuming Bill gets the Cup of course.” Hermione sighed as she set the jar on the table, covering it with a cloth so they didn’t have to look at it, and fell onto the couch.

“He is resourceful, I think he will be successful.” Fleur nodded and joined her, curling up against the brunette. 

Hermione hummed softly. As much as she wanted to stay in for the rest of the night, she knew she could feel that Fleur still felt tense, probably being in close proximity to the Ring was still affecting her. “I’ll take that up to the castle tonight, I don’t want to be around it any longer than I have to.”

“Oui, that would be nice. I’m sorry I can’t help, it just affects me so much.”

Hermione kissed her softly on the forehead “Don’t worry about it. These things are particularly nasty. I’ll just pop up to school and will be back soon. You rest, you were brilliant this evening.”

Fleur smiled softly and nestled against her chest for a moment, squishing her face between her breasts “But this is comfortable.” Her voice was quite muffled.

She shook her head at her mate’s antics “It will be even better when that blasted Ring isn’t here.”

The Veela looked up with a puppy-eyed pout but nodded “Hurry home then. I’ll be waiting for you.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So, this is a suicide pill?” Sirius held up the little capsule containing the basilisk poison, studying it with a deeply furrowed brow. 

“Yes, in case we get captured by a Death Eater… That way they can’t torture and interrogate for information.” Fleur explained. It had been several weeks since she and Hermione managed to get the Ring and the Order had assembled for a check-in meeting at Grimmauld Place.

“It’s something the Muggles did… spies during the wars.” Hermione elaborated.

“I guess it makes sense, but why wouldn’t we just use magic?” Moody growled, examining his pill.

“If they disarm you, can you cast the Killing Curse wandlessly?” Fleur challenged.

“Suppose not.” The scarred ex-Auror grumbled.

“They’re enchanted so they won’t break and will only dissolve when exposed to saliva. Brilliant touch, by the way...” Hermione squeezed Fleur’s hand.

“Well, let’s hope we don’t need them, but it is a good idea.” Lupin placed his in a vial in his pocket.

“Better safe than sorry. Constant vigilance, I always say!” Moody huffed and swirled his mechanical eye in its socket.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled “Very good. And I believe you said that you had something else for us?”

“Ah, yes…” Hermione pulled out her bag and placed the pile of fake galleons on the table, distributing them with a flick of her wand. “These have been enchanted. We know that Voldemort has started seeking the prophecy orb, so it’s just a matter of time before he strikes. These will notify everyone when that time is.”

“How do we know?” Arthur looked at the galleon, appreciating the craftsmanship before pocketing it. “You two certainly have kept yourselves busy.”

“I believe that there is a bond between Harry and Voldemort.” Dumbledore spoke quietly.

Sirius nodded “That makes sense. He’s mentioned having dreams before…”

“We know he’s been keeping a low profile, so he won’t try to retrieve the orb himself, but he’ll probably try to send minions to do his dirty work.” Lupin mused aloud.

“We should set up a watch then. Keep the orb safe at night.” Tonks chimed in. She pulled out a roll of parchment and wrote up a schedule based on who was available and who had access to the Ministry. 

“Good, good. Now, what news have we heard from our informants?” Dumbledore looked to the group, who took turns sharing what they had heard. So far it all seemed to be the same. The whereabouts of Voldemort and Bellatrix were still unknown, though Hermione figured they were probably at Malfoy Manor. At least Bellatrix. That’s where they had been hiding out in the last timeline, but she couldn’t say that to anyone other than Fleur or Dumbledore.

The rest of the meeting went by quickly and everyone headed out for the evening.

Hermione sighed and collapsed onto the bed as soon as they got home. They had accomplished a lot, but there was still quite a bit to be done. She had been struggling to make the replica of the Hufflepuff Cup and she was running out of time. Dumbledore had told her that Bill had been put on the team to do the next vault security sweep, which would be in December. That left her roughly two weeks to make it and somehow get it to him. And prepare for midterm exams. And a cursory glance at the nightstand told her she needed to figure out how to brew more of her contraceptive potion, the bottle was dangerously low by now. She was wishing that she still had McGonagall’s time turner right about now.


	33. NSFW Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not a whole lot going on here other than just some hanky panky. This will also probably be the last smut chapter. I don't want this story to just turn into a porn and lose the plot. But they also have earned some love...
> 
> If you don't want to read the steamy bits, just read the first bit and stop when they start kissing.

Fleur smiled over the top of her book to sneak a look at her mate. The couple had been sitting on the couch together for the better part of two hours and her eyes were in desperate need of a break from the tiny text of her tome. The brunette had her nose deep in her book, her brow deeply furrowed and eyebrows twitching slightly, the tips of her hair crackled with energy. Whatever she was reading must be very exciting to her. 

“What are you reading that has your hair so… energized?” 

“Oh, I have been trying to research more about our soul bonding.” Hermione lowered her book.

“Is that so? And what have you found out?” Fleur’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“So much! It’s absolutely  _ fascinating _ !” The brunette witch eyes started to swim excitedly.

“That is such a  _ you _ thing to say,” she smirked, poking her in the side with her toe. 

“I’m serious! The thought of two compatible souls merging into one to the point that we can actually sense what the other is feeling! How is that  _ not _ fascinating?!” Hermione countered, trying to sound annoyed but ended up giggling when Fleur’s toe tickled her. “I mean, what would happen if the souls weren’t compatible?”

“Then they simply would not merge and would exist as separate entities, I suppose. It reminds me of when I was rejecting my Veela as a teenager.” Fleur bent forward and shifted to her knees, leaning over her mate, grinning wickedly. Her eyes flickered down to Hermione’s perfectly kissable lips then slipped shut as she lowered her head for a kiss. “And what prompted you to look this up ancient Veela magic when you could have just asked me? I’ll happily show you what it looks like when two souls come together...” 

Instead of being met by her mate’s soft lips she was met by a finger holding her at bay. She couldn’t help but pout and huff indignantly. “Why?” She whined softly.

“Because you were teasing me!”

Fleur immediately switched gears, taking on an exaggerated, apologetic tone “Oh, mademoiselle… then I must apologize profusely. Please, allow me to make it up to you.”

“And how, may I ask, do you intend to do that?” Hermione tried to keep up the charade but Fleur could see a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

“Mmm, well, if you would allow me, I would start by…” Fleur hummed and pressed her lips to the side of her mate’s neck and gave her a soft kiss.

Hermione purred softly and tilted her chin to the side to give her more access “A good start…”

Fleur smirked and started kissing a trail up the side of the slender neck, her hand sneaking into the soft brown curls, moving the unruly locks aside and giving a gentle tug as her lips ghosted over the shell of the exposed ear. She nibbled on the tender skin of Hermione’s earlobe, earning a quiet moan from the woman pinned below her. She grinned to herself when she felt her mate’s hands sneak under her shirt, drawing her nails gently across her back.

“It’s a shame we can’t continue…” Fleur murmured as she pulled away, her usually clear eyes slightly unfocused and hazy.

Hermione’s eyes shot open and she gave her a slight glare “And why is that?”

“Because my mate has decided to punish us both…” Fleur straightened her arms to push herself up off the couch but two strong hands wrapped around her back, pulling back down.

“Oh hush you and kiss me properly.” Hermione rolled her eyes and tilted her chin, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss.

“Of course, mon coeur,” Fleur eagerly responded, dropping back down to her elbows, pressing their bodies together as she returned the kiss. Her hands eventually made their way behind the brunette, one cradling her shoulders, the other on her bum. With a sudden display of strength, the Veela stood up abruptly, effectively deadlifting her off the couch.

Hermione squeaked and instinctively clung to the blonde as she went from horizontal to vertical in the blink of an eye.

The French witch smirked and carried her like a koala toward the bedroom, gently setting her on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side. She stood between the brunette’s legs and leaned forward, capturing the swollen lips in a tender kiss. “Mmm… have you taken your potion today?”

Hermione nodded, “Every morning… you’ve been insatiable and I don’t want to risk missing a day.”

“It is not my fault. You are just so appealing and I want to show you how much I love you. And I don’t recall you complaining…” Fleur hummed softly and tilted her head to nibble on the side of her mate’s neck, kissing and sucking the faint scar of the mating bite, breathing in her mate’s scent. The subtle smells of honeysuckle and peppermint filled her nostrils and made her head swim. 

Whatever retort she had to Fleur’s comment died on Hermione’s tongue when she felt soft lips latch onto her neck above her pulsepoint. “Mmm… Fleur…” Her body shuddered pleasantly when she felt the vibrating hum on her skin and she pressed herself up against her mate, desperate to feel their bodies together.

The part-Veela took advantage of the space between the brunette’s back and the bed and her nimble fingers reached down to pull the sweater up. Once she made her intentions known, the British witch sat up slightly to assist. The blonde was pleasantly surprised to discover that her mate wasn’t wearing a bra that evening and her eyes roamed over the smooth skin on display.

Hermione reached for Fleur’s sweater but her hands were suddenly restrained by a firm grip on her wrists. 

“Non, mon coeur, I still have some making up to do…” Fleur chided softly and pressed the Gryffindor back onto the bed, holding her wrists above her head with one hand. She knew that Hermione enjoyed little displays of dominance like this but also felt comfort in knowing that she would stop immediately if asked. She slowly made her way down across the exposed chest, kissing, licking and sucking a trail to her breast. 

Once she found her target, she took her time, tongue lavishing the stiff pink peak, alternating between swirling her tongue gently around it and sucking firmly. Her free hand had moved to give its twin attention, massaging the soft mound, rubbing the nipple gently between her fingers. She switched between the two sides, sure to give equal treatment to what she believed was the most perfect set of breasts in existence.

She could feel herself starting to stiffen in her pants, but she was determined to make her mate feel good first. Since their bonding, she had learned some self control, after all. But there was a way to accomplish both. She gently bucked her hips forward, grinding her growing bulge against the brunette’s clothed core.

Hermione was groaning softly, head tilted back as she arched her chest up to encourage her mate. Her hips instinctively rocked to meet Fleur’s movements, desperately searching for friction. 

Fleur hummed happily to herself, pleased at the reactions she was getting from her mate. She enjoyed teasing the brunette, making sure she was extra sensitive and ready for what was to come. But when she felt those hips start to roll she knew that the Golden Girl’s patience was wearing thin. She reluctantly released the nipple in her mouth with a soft pop and started kissing down the soft abdomen, her hand already working at the button of her jeans. 

Hermione raised her hips to help the Veela remove her trousers and knickers, eagerly spreading her legs for her mate with a soft whine.

“Mm, so eager, mon coeur.” Fleur purred, taking a moment to appreciate the view in front of her, her darkened eyes roaming over her mate’s naked body. The younger witch was already clearly aroused and she could practically feel the heat radiating from her core. She sank to her knees alongside the bed and started kissing up the soft skin of the pale inner thighs.

“Fleur, if you don’t hurry up…” Hermione huffed impatiently.

“You’ll what, mon coeur?” She couldn’t help herself, she loved when her witch got bossy and told her what she wanted and how she wanted it. She nipped and sucked at sensitive skin as she waited for an answer, hard enough to form a dark bruise, then kissed it softly, running her tongue gently along to soothe the irritated area.

“Please, Fleur…” the brunette started to squirm.

Satisfied that she had teased her mate enough, Fleur sat up on her knees, pulling Hermione’s legs over her shoulders and kissed her way quickly to Hermione’s glistening core. Her hands held firm to the tops of her thighs, holding on for stability and to keep Hermione’s legs in place. 

Once her face was in position, she flattened her tongue and slowly licked a long stripe through the warm lips, earning a deep, satisfied moan from the woman above her. Her tastebuds were exploding as she got her first taste. This wasn’t her first time eating her mate out, but there was nothing better than the first drops of arousal touching her tongue. As she hummed her satisfaction, she took a deep breath through her nose, her eyes rolling back as she took in the scent of her mate’s arousal, sweet and slightly musky. Everything just spurred her to dive in more.

Hermione arched her back high at the sudden presence of Fleur’s tongue on her center. She tried to buck her hips to press herself further into Fleur’s mouth, but the blonde’s strong grasp kept her steady. She desperately grasped the blankets in tight fists as if they were the only thing keeping her anchored down.

Fleur hummed happily as she lapped at the wetness, greedily drinking it down as if she hadn’t drank anything for days. She ran her tongue through the hot folds, swirling it around her entrance a few times before pressing in and out slightly.

“Oh sweet Morgana, yes…” The brunette panted, her breathing already becoming unsteady and erratic. One of her hands flew down and ink stained fingers wove into the thick silvery blonde hair, her nails scratching the scalp.

Feeling encouraged, Fleur continued to thrust her tongue as far as she could. She was purposefully ignoring the clit for the time being, but her desire to hear her mate gasp and moan her name was mounting and she wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. 

By now her cock was rock hard and straining painfully in her pants, begging for attention. Without removing her mouth from Hermione’s sex or stopping her ministrations, she carefully unbuttoned her jeans with one hand and pushed them down to pool at her thighs. She sighed in relief, grasping her member in her hand, pumping gently.

“You feel so good… Oh, fuck… Fleur…” The usually eloquent witch was reduced to single syllable words, her tone betraying her need.

Fleur tilted her chin and finally redirected her tongue’s attention to the bundle of nerves she had been neglecting. She swirled her tongue around it, not applying direct pressure to the sensitive clit. Not yet at least.

“FUCK!” Hermione exclaimed loudly as her body shook from the sudden stimulation.

Fleur hummed and flicked her tongue a while longer. She had stopped stroking herself at some point, focusing solely on the woman in front of her. She could feel her mate was close, her breathy moans were coming in desperate, ragged gasps and her thighs were bucking and twitching around her ears. It was time to pull out her secret weapon that she knew was sure to please and bring the brunette her release. She gently wrapped her lips around Hermione’s most sensitive area and purred, rolling her tongue across the nub as if she were rolling an r when speaking in her native language.

Hermione went rigid as her pleasure reached its peak, back arched so high off the bed that only her tailbone and back of her head were in contact with any surface. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and her mouth hung open in a wanton display of absolute bliss. And then she tumbled over the edge, shamelessly crying out loud, “Fuck… Fuckkk… Fleuuurrrrr!”

Fleur gradually slowed her movements, returning to giving long slow licks as she gently brought her mate back down from her climax. Her Veela was absolutely applauding her for treating her mate so well and the blonde was certain that if they hadn’t cast silencing spells, that people in London would have heard them. She slowly got to her feet, wiping her mouth with her hand to clean herself off, grinning down at the twitching brunette.

Hermione took several long moments to come down from her high, her eyes slowly opening to gaze up lazily through heavy eyelids at the Frenchwoman, “You look smug…” She observed with a chuckle.

“Well, I think I earned a little smugness.” Fleur chuckled and leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Mmm, I agree.” Hermione wrapped her arms around Fleur’s neck and pulled her down for a deep kiss, her tongue moving in slow, languid movements against her mate’s. She chuckled and looked down when she felt the thick length slip between her legs, nudging at her slit. She hooked a leg behind Fleur’s and pulled her closer. “Someone is eager.”

Fleur rocked her hips, letting her cock slide in the warm slick between her mate’s legs. Almost overwhelmed by the sensation, she buried her face in the crook of Hermione’s neck, breathing in her scent. “I can’t help it. You’re too beautiful, mon coeur,” she whispered huskily in her ear. “I want you…”

Hermione nodded and sat up, still shaking a little. She slid her hands under Fleur’s sweater and pulled off the offending garment, along with her bra.

Fleur eagerly finished removing her jeans, kicking them to the side. Her cock bounced heavily as she moved her legs and she couldn’t help but grin when she saw Hermione staring at it, licking her lips hungrily. “You really like my dick, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm…” Hermione just hummed her response as she lay back down on the bed, making space for Fleur to settle between her legs.

The blonde resumed their kiss, slowly guiding the tip of her cock through the warm slick with one hand while the other laced its way into the thick brown curls, tugging occasionally. She coated her length in Hermione’s natural lubricant and once satisfied, she lined herself up with the hot entrance. She bit her lip to fight back the deep groan in her throat as she felt the lips part for her. Hermione was still warm and wet from her earlier orgasm and she slid in easily, her eyes screwing shut with pleasure as her member was enveloped in the silky walls of Hermione’s center.

“Oh fuck… you feel so good” She panted softly, continuing to slowly press herself in further in gentle thrusts. Their bed was the perfect height for her to take her mate in this position, everything lined up wonderfully. She paused for a moment when she was finally fully sheathed, giving the brunette time to stretch around her thick member. 

Hermione revelled in the feeling of being completely filled, her muscles clenching down hard on the cock buried deep inside her. Given the size and shape, Fleur hit all the right spots and she knew that once the blonde started moving, it would only get better. “I’m ready…” she husked out once she had relaxed.

Fleur leaned up to stand at her full height, giving herself the widest range of motion. She grabbed Hermione’s legs behind the knees and held her open as she pulled out slowly. Once only the tip was still inside, she snapped her hips forward and thrust back in hard and deep.

“FLEUR!” Hermione gasped, her back arching so fast that the French witch heard several pops.

Fleur started thrusting like this in long, purposeful movements, taking her time. There was no need to rush things. Unfortunately she didn’t know where to look. She wanted to watch her mate’s face and see the visible display of pleasure on the brunette’s soft features. But she also wanted to watch her breasts bounce in time with her thrusts. And of course she loved watching her cock disappearing with each push. Her eyes remained focused on watching the disappearing act, content to listen to the breathy gasps and moans escaping the Golden Girl’s mouth.

She alternated between slow, deep thrusts and quick bursts of speed. With a particularly hard thrust she leaned forward and captured her mate’s lips, leaving herself buried to the hilt. She rocked her hips, pressing herself in as far as possible. They were both radiating heat and their skin damp with sweat but she didn’t care. “I want to try something new,” she whispered against her mate’s lips.

“Whatever you want, love.” 

Fleur nodded and stood up, pulling out completely, earning a dissatisfied whine. She pulled Hermione off the bed and turned her around so she was standing flat on the ground and hands on the bed, supporting her upper body. She grabbed her cock and lined up again, pressing herself inside. She slid in with ease, but because her mate’s muscles were engaged, she felt even tighter. She held onto the pale hips in front of her and started bucking furiously into her mate.

Unable to hold herself up any longer, Hermione dropped down to her elbows and arched her back, which in turn pressed her hips up and gave Fleur even deeper access to her core.

Fleur threw her head back and sighed loudly as she felt the angle change when Hermione shifted the position. It was a small change but damn did it make a difference. She loved taking her mate from behind. It gave her more control and she was able to reach deeply. With each thrust she could feel the tip hit the spongy patch on her front wall, which caused her mate to cry out each time. It stroked her and her Veela’s ego to hear how much their mate appreciated the action.

She rutted into her mate hard and fast, feeling her cock start to throb as the soft inner walls clenched around her length. “‘Ermione…” she husked out, her voice deep and uneven.

“Please, Fleur… don’t stop... I’m so close.”

Fleur did as instructed and continued her fast pace, eager to bring them both to their release. She dug her fingertips into the soft skin as she gripped her hips even tighter, pulling her back onto her cock with each forward motion.

Hermione picked up on what Fleur was doing and started rocking her hips in time with the thrusts. With a violent shudder, she came hard, her inner walls clenching tightly around the length inside her, which coaxed the blonde over her own edge. 

Fleur cried out as she started to release her hot seed deep inside the brunette, the silken walls gripping her member tight, milking her for all she had. After a few moments of intense bliss, she started to come down, leaning forward and pressing her front against Hermione’s back, feeling too weak to stand. Or she just really craved skin contact. She was breathing erratically from her pleasure and effort, her body tingling all the way to her toes. Still shaking, she gave a few lazy thrusts before pulling out, rolling over, and collapsing on the bed next to her mate. Her silvery-blonde hair was sticking to her back but she couldn’t have cared less because the look Hermione was giving her was worth it. 

“I take it that you liked that?” She chuckled, fingertips brushing the slightly freckled cheek. 

“Very, very much,” the British witch agreed, her breathing starting to even out. She had crawled up onto the bed and curled up next to the blonde, enjoying a quick post-coital cuddle before they went to clean up. 


	34. Chapter 34

By the end of November, Hermione had managed to create a convincing duplicate of the Hufflepuff Cup and not a moment too soon. Dumbledore had informed them that Bill would be doing the security sweep the next week.

To take some of the pressure off and give her mate a well-deserved break, Fleur offered to go to London to give Bill the fake Cup. Dumbledore even brought in Professor Grubbly-Plank to cover the Magical Creatures lessons, since Hagrid still hadn’t returned from his mission to talk with the giants.

Hermione hated the idea of being separated from Fleur, even if it was just a week or so. But with her classes and the Dueling Club responsibilities, there was no way for her to go with the blonde. Through their ever-growing bond, she could feel that Fleur was excited for the chance to get out again, and she didn’t want to limit her mate. Besides, there had been no news of any Death Eater activity and the plan put almost no risk on the French witch, so she begrudgingly agreed. 

Fleur was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron under her new illusion, taking on the visage of a plain and unassuming witch that no one would give a second thought to, even if they felt the effects of her thrall. It actually amused her when she watched people walk by and turn in her direction but shrug and walk on. _Why hadn’t she thought of this before?_

It was the early evening and she was having a light supper while she waited for Bill Weasley to give him the fake Cup. The security sweep was set to start the next day and would take several days to complete. Neither of them knew the order in which the Curse Breakers would go through the vaults, so she would stay at the Leaky Cauldron and wait there until he was able to get into the Lestrange vault.

As much as she was loath to be separated from Hermione, she was actually looking forward to this little side-mission. It gave her the chance to get away from Hogwarts for a while and there were a few errands she wanted to take care of in Diagon Alley. And she and Bill had been good friends in the previous timeline and she wanted to spend some time with him and start their friendship anew.

She looked up when she saw a flash of red hair out of her periphery and straightened up in her seat, looking directly at the eldest Weasley son as she flashed the subtle signal.

Bill scanned the room before his eyes settled on the witch sitting alone in the corner. She was absentmindedly twirling a galleon between her surprisingly nimble fingers. He sat down opposite of her. He stared intently at her for a moment before speaking. “The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us.”

“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” Fleur responded coolly, gripping her wand under the table, casting a quick _Muffliato_ to avoid eavesdroppers as well as a few other protective charms. And also to hex the man in front of her if he was an imposter.

“Cheerful man, that Dumbledore.” Bill relaxed and leaned back against his chair. “You outdid yourself there, Delacour.”

“Well, when you’ve got one of the darkest witches in history searching for you, one can’t be too careful,” the disguised witch simply shrugged. “Everything is ready for this week?”

“All except for the parcel.”

Fleur nodded and slid an envelope across the table to him. The envelope had been charmed with an Undetectable Extension charm and contained the fake Hufflepuff Cup as well as instructions for how to contact her when the real Cup was acquired.

Bill took it in stride and tucked the envelope into his robe pocket. “So, care to join me for a drink? I’d love to talk to you about the Triwizard Tournament. I was following it rather closely. Charlie and I were both amazed by the way you handled the Horntail.”

Fleur smiled and accepted his offer. She had forgotten how easy it was to be friends with Bill. 

They laughed and chatted, unaware they were being watched.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione sat in her classroom one afternoon grading essays from the 5th year students. They had moved from dueling technique to talking about Dark creatures. Specifically Dementors. Even though Harry had encountered them in his 3rd year, the other DA members needed to be brought up to speed. And it gave him a chance to prove his skill and ability to produce a full-bodied Patronus. She knew that it was advanced magic, especially for the 4th years, well above their expected level of study. But after three months of being a Hogwarts Professor, everyone knew that her course was rigorous and advanced, so it fit the expectations they had of her teaching.

A soft knock on her door pulled her attention from grading Seamus’s paper.

“Professor? Do you have a moment?”

“Oh, Potter. Come in.” She smiled softly at the messy-haired boy as she set down the parchment. It had taken her a little time at first to remember to be so formal with her friends now pupils, but after a week or so she had fallen easily into the facade and now it came naturally to her. She gestured to the open seat on the opposite side of her desk and cast a few defensive wards. “Something on your mind?”

Harry took a few hesitant steps in place before sitting down. “Erm, yeah, but it’s fine.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow. She knew that something was on his mind but he was holding back. Over the past few months he had opened up to her more but she knew he was still cautious, which was probably for the best. His experience with having professors as trustworthy mentors was less than ideal, with the exception of McGonagall and Dumbledore, of course. She tried to coax him gently while also confirming her own suspicions. There were only two topics they really discussed outside of classwork: Sirius and Voldemort. “Is everything okay with Snuffles?”

“Oh, he’s fine. I think maybe a little bored, being cooped up and all.”

“Well, he’s a big dog, they usually need space to run.” She remarked casually. 

“He is, and he’s pretty social, so I know it bothers him being left home alone.”

So his issue wasn’t with Sirius, that was good. It was too soon for Voldemort to know about and exploit the connection. Hopefully, at least. So she switched gears and touched the other usual topic of their conversations. “Is it the dreams?”

He nodded glumly.

“Any changes or just the door?”

“It’s just the door… but, it feels like he’s getting increasingly desperate. I can feel him during the day now, not just when I’m asleep… He feels angry.”

Hermione nodded with a sigh. She had the feeling that something like this was coming, it was building up just like the last timeline. She and Dumbledore had briefly talked with him about the connection that existed between him and Voldemort, though they didn’t go into depth or theories as to why such a connection was present. He had taken the news surprisingly well, already suspecting some sort of connection because of the way his scar had hurt when he met Quirrell and Voldemort in the hunt for the Sorcerer’s Stone. If anything, he seemed to be relieved and vindicated to know that he wasn’t the only one who thought that. 

Dumbledore himself offered to tutor him in both Occlumency and Legilimency. In the previous timeline it had been Snape giving Harry his lessons, but since the Potions master was semi-regularly in the presence of Voldemort, it was better to keep the two separate. It was imperative that Harry learn how to block out Voldemort’s influence, especially while the Dark Lord was still unaware of the connection.

“I’m scared, Professor. This connection… it’s affecting me. I feel myself getting mad for no reason.” Harry’s shoulders curled in as he stared at a spot on her desk.

Hermione’s heart broke seeing her friend looking so small and scared. She wanted to hug him and tell him it would all be okay, but she knew she couldn’t. Not when she looked like the no-nonsense professor. She also knew that she couldn’t make that promise to him. Not when there was so much in the air. She wouldn’t lie to him any more than she already had to.

“Is he… possessing me?” Harry’s emeralds swam with worry. “I just don’t feel like myself.”

“No, I don’t believe it’s possession.” 

“How do you know?”

“Are you experiencing black outs? Periods of time where you cannot recall what you were doing?”

“No. At least I don’t think so.”

“No moments of finding yourself somewhere and having no recollection of how you got there?”

“No, not at all. I just am so angry…”

“Then you aren’t possessed.” Hermione responded simply, leaning back in her chair a little as she watched him mull this over. After a moment she continued, “It is true that during his first rise to power, Voldemort was known for infiltrating the minds of his victims and planting visions, though I do not recall possession being something he did. It is a very risky and theoretical process with a lot of room for things to go potentially wrong. I don't think that Voldemort wouldn't risk that, at least not directly. I believe that you are simply feeling his emotions. A window into his mind.”

“It’s horrible.” Harry murmured and picked at his robes.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. Believe me, I’ve been trying to research into this connection, trying to find a way to break it, but the answer keeps evading me.” She spoke honestly, her lips pulled into a tight line. She decided to change direction, “What do your friends say? Are they supportive?”

“Well, Luna and Neville have been great. They’re really patient with me. Ginny, too, actually, has been a good listener. Ron’s okay, he’s been distracted with Lavender though, so I don’t see much of him, honestly.”

Hermione nodded, that was probably for the best. She had noticed that Harry’s work had improved significantly this year. He seemed more focused and determined than he had before. Probably due to a mix of not having someone to do his homework for him as well as not having the dark raincloud of the youngest Weasley son hanging about. She felt guilty that she had inadvertently been contributing to his laziness in the previous years.

She was really proud to see him stepping up and coming into his own and starting to flourish. The other members of the Dueling Club viewed him as a leader and were coming to him with some of their questions. Also because his name was not associated with Voldemort’s return in the graveyard and the mysterious death of Cedric Diggory, he had avoided the Ministry’s smear campaign that had made things very difficult for him in the past timeline.

“It’s silly, but I miss my friend Hermione.” Harry admitted quietly.

Hermione almost choked on her own breath, but quickly recovered. Harry had never mentioned her before. “Oh…” 

Harry didn’t seem to notice and kept talking “She always knew what to do. It’s weird not having her around. She’s like my sister, but she graduated early last year and she’s off on some internship project with the headmaster or something.”

“She must mean a lot to you. Would it make you feel better to talk about her?”

“Maybe? I dunno… I just hope she’s alright. She writes to me every now and then but it’s not the same.”

“I’m sure she’s fine wherever she is and she wouldn’t want you to worry about her.”

“Yeah, I know… she told me not to worry. I just can’t help it. Knowing that Voldemort’s out there and all and she’s a Muggle-born.”

“Well, if it’s an internship through Professor Dumbledore, do you think he would actually allow anything to happen to her?”

“No. That’s a good point.” Harry clearly relaxed, “Maybe I’m just a worrier.”

“There’s nothing wrong about that. Caring about others and having feelings is not a sign of weakness. It’s the people around us, who care for us in return, that give us our strength. It’s important to have love, compassion, and empathy for others. It is what differentiates us from people like Voldemort. You care about her and it sounds like she cares for you, too.”

Harry nodded slowly “She said something like that to me, too.”

“Sounds like she’s pretty smart.”

“Brightest witch of our class!” Harry perked up.

“Right, graduated Hogwarts at 15.” Hermione feigned ignorance. It felt weird pretending this way, it made her stomach churn slightly with guilt. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve got good instincts. Continue your lessons with Professor Dumbledore, trust yourself and keep your friends close, I think you’ll be just fine.”

Harry grinned broadly “Well, thanks, Professor. I think I feel better.”

“Any time, Potter.” Hermione gave an encouraging smile. She waited for him to leave the classroom before turning her attention back to the pile of essays left to be graded. 

She worked long into the evening, setting some defensive wards to prevent her from being disturbed. Since Fleur was gone, she had not bothered to keep her usual schedule and she didn’t particularly feel like being home alone at the moment. She finally finished reading the last essay and tossed it onto the ‘graded’ pile with a satisfied sigh, rubbing her tired eyes in the dimming candlelight. She packed up her bag and finally stood with a big stretch, rubbing her hands on her sore lower back.

As she started to make her way to the classroom door, she felt a sudden jolt course through her body. The next thing she knew she was on the ground, curled into a tight ball as her body was wracked with immeasurable pain. It felt like receiving the Cruciatus Curse but there was no one around. Her face contorted in pain, silent screams ripped from her lungs and then everything went black.

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open as she regained consciousness and was immediately overwhelmed by the sharp, sterile smells. She blinked up at the white ceiling as her eyes regained focus before turning her gaze to take in her surroundings. She was definitely in the hospital wing. How did she get here? She was vaguely aware of several hushed voices whispering in her vicinity but she couldn’t make out who they belonged to or what they were saying through the drawn curtains.

Panic flooded her veins as she looked down, realizing her glamours had dropped due to her unconscious state. She squirmed in her bed, but her limbs felt like they were made of lead. 

The curtain quickly parted and a reassuring hand touched her shoulder, followed by a familiar voice. “Ah, Miss Granger… you gave us quite a fright. Here, drink this.” He slipped a cold metal cup into her hand. 

Hermione complied silently then stared up at Dumbledore, his usually bright eyes were guarded, worried. McGonagall was standing close behind him, wringing her hands together slightly. Her eyes darted around, swimming with concern. “Professor…” she croaked, her voice unsteady and hoarse. “What…”

“Do not worry, your identity is still safe. Your classroom wards were still in place and no one had disturbed you when I found you.” Dumbledore seemed to read her mind. Oh right, he was a master Legilimens and she had no barriers in this state.

Hermione relaxed a little, but it didn’t explain her condition or why she even needed to be in the hospital in the first place.

“I wish there was an easier way to tell you this. But you’re needed at St. Mungos as soon as you are feeling well enough to travel.”

“St. Mungos?” Hermione’s brow furrowed deeply. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as her mind went to the darkest place. Pieces were falling into place and the picture they painted was not a good one.

Dumbledore drew his lips into a thin line “There was an attack. Miss Delacour has been severely injured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the ‘what have I done?’ Tag...


	35. Chapter 35

Hermione was numb. It was nearly three in the morning, but she didn’t care or notice in her state of physical and emotional exhaustion. Her eyes stared blankly ahead as she approached the decrepit storefront of the condemned department store, Purge and Dowse, Ltd. She barely noticed Kingsley and Tonks standing guard on either side of the hidden entrance to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Both were giving her sympathetic looks and muttering their condolences as she passed. She didn’t hear what they had said to her. Her ears felt like they were full of cotton, drowning out everything but Dumbledore’s words, which echoed hollowly in her ears. 

_“There was an attack. Miss Delacour has been severely injured.”_

If she had her wits about her, she would have screamed at them to not look at her like that. She wanted to yell at them that Fleur wasn’t dead. That she had a chance and not to lose faith in her. She would be okay. She just had to be. But she had no words and she continued on in silence. 

It felt like everything she had been through in the previous timeline had been concentrated into this one moment. All of the horror. All of the pain. All of the uncertainty. The fear of the unknown was crippling. It threatened to drown her, suffocate her, and bury her alive. 

_“There was an attack. Miss Delacour has been severely injured.”_

She knew the price of war. She knew firsthand what it felt like to lose loved ones. But that didn’t make this situation any easier to endure. The unfathomable heartache ripped her wide open. Doubt quickly darkened her thoughts. Would Fleur make it? She had to believe in her mate. The woman was strong, stronger than anyone she knew. She had literally bathed in dragon fire. Yet everyone had their limits. Even Fleur Delacour.

She realized that the pain she had felt earlier, the pain that had caused her to lose consciousness, was probably due to their bond. An echo of what Fleur was feeling. A fraction of the actual pain that Fleur had endured. She felt nothing now, which she found even more concerning. Maybe Fleur was unconscious? But she didn’t know how their bond worked and speculating would get her nowhere. She swallowed thickly and tried not to think about it. 

Of course she had asked all sorts of questions at first as Madame Pomfrey shoved revitalizing potions down her throat and did her examination. _“There was an attack. Miss Delacour has been severely injured.”_ What did that even mean? Attacked by whom? How could this happen? The mission was supposed to be simple. Get in, exchange the Cup, and get out. But Dumbledore had been irritatingly vague on the details, stating that she would get her answers soon and that it was best they not delay. 

This left her alone with her thoughts and her mind spiraled, dragging her to the deepest depths, instantly going to the worst case scenario. Would this be the last time she saw Fleur alive? Her heart ached and a silent sob wracked her body at the thought. It felt worse than when she saw Harry’s limp body being carried by Hagrid. Fleur was her soulmate, her perfect complement. Her one love. The one she wanted to build a life with once all this was done. There were so many things they wanted to do together. So many possibilities. Perhaps never to come to light. She knew that this mission was dangerous and this had always been a risk. But there was a huge difference between knowing the possibility and that possibility becoming reality. 

She barely registered her legs moving as Dumbledore led her by the elbow down the tiled halls of the hospital. St. Mungo’s Healers in their bright lime green robes bustled about, some carried trays of potions, others carried clipboards. 

She knew that she looked like an absolute mess. She could tell her hair was frazzled and her robes rumpled. But she didn’t care and she didn’t have the strength or concentration to keep up a disguise illusion. She barely had the strength to maintain basic body functions required for existing. Her heart felt like it was racing while simultaneously frozen mid-beat. Her breathing was uneven and shallow. Her stomach churned and the nausea was almost crippling. But she had to be strong. She had to be strong for Fleur. She had to be the rock anchoring her to this world to guide her back. 

She didn’t realize they had stopped walking, Dumbledore speaking in a hushed voice to the Head Healer, as indicated by her special decorative cap on her head. The elderly witch simply looked at her with a sympathetic gaze and nodded, turning and gesturing for them to follow. She led them to the stairs and up to the first floor to the “‘Dangerous’ Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites.” 

Hermione blinked when she realized where they were going. This was the floor for creature-induced injuries. Fleur was attacked by a creature? What creature would be in London? A Dementor again? It seemed unlikely but she couldn’t think of any alternatives. 

The Healer stopped at a closed door, looking at them both with a serious expression and a stern yet gentle tone. 

“This might come as a bit of a shock, but I beseech you to stay calm and quiet. Miss Delacour’s condition is delicate and we do not want to disrupt her rest. She is in an induced healing coma and any loud noise might agitate her condition. A Healer will be along shortly to check on her and record her condition. You are welcome to stay here or there is a small cafe and sitting room on the fifth floor.” She looked sadly at the unusual pair, “I’m sorry but at this point we’ve done all we can for her. The rest is up to her. I pray to Morgana for her. I recommend you do the same.”

Hermione’s heart clenched when she heard that. It confirmed how dire the situation was. There was no denying it now. Dumbledore squeezed her shoulder softly as if to ask if she was okay. She simply nodded and squared her shoulders, trying to mentally prepare herself as best she could. 

The Healer opened the door quietly and moved out of the way. 

Hermione made it three steps in before she froze in her tracks, her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she took in the sight. The room was mostly dark, lit by a small candle on the nightstand by the bed. The lighting only added to the somberness of the situation.

Fleur was lying flat on her back on the hospital bed, the sterile white sheets pulled up to cover her legs and waist. She wasn’t wearing a top. Instead her torso had been completely wrapped in thin white bandages, like a Muggle mummy. Hermione could tell that the damage was primarily on her left side. There looked like some extra padding on her ribs and over her shoulder, held in place by the bandages. Her chest rose and fell in the soft cast just a handful of times a minute. Her shallow breaths were labored and she wheezed a little with each exhale. Her arms were left bare, her already pale skin looking even whiter. 

Fleur’s brow was furrowed slightly, just a hint that she might be in pain or discomfort, but otherwise her expression was eerily calm and peaceful. At least what she could see. The left half of Fleur’s face had been wrapped in padding and gauze, similar to her upper body. Her long silvery blonde hair had been pulled to her right side and draped over her shoulder to keep it out of the way.

Hermione walked to her side, her hand hovering just inches above the pale skin of her arm, unsure if she should touch her or not. She stared at her mate in silence for what could have been minutes or hours. Time had no measure or meaning at the moment. When she couldn’t take it anymore, she wheeled on Dumbledore and all but pushed him out the door into the hallway. She needed answers and she needed them now.

“From what I’ve gathered, she was attacked by Fenrir Greyback.” Dumbledore didn’t wait for her to ask her question. 

Hermione froze. Surely she hadn’t heard that correctly. “Greyback… The… the werewolf?”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly.

“But how? A wanted criminal walking through Diagon Alley? That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Miss Delacour was not in Diagon Alley when the attack occurred.”

“What do you mean?”

“It might be easier for someone who was present to explain.” Dumbledore shifted his body to reveal a tall redhead man behind him. 

Hermione observed Bill quietly, her brown eyes boring holes in him as if that would somehow answer her questions. He looked like he hadn’t slept yet, his hair was messy and clothes disheveled. She could see dark circles under his eyes, which he kept downcast, unable to look her in the face. He stood awkwardly, wringing his hands as he mustered up the courage to speak. 

“What happened?” She croaked out.

“Hermione… I’m so sorry.”

“What. Happened?” She growled, her gaze narrowed. She wanted answers not apologies. 

“We just got the Cup and were heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. But she was really excited about something. Said she wanted to take care of a special errand before returning to Hogwarts and it would only take a few minutes.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself, but his voice was starting to falter “She asked me to come with her… she wanted my opinion… I agreed, so she took me to a shop nearby in Muggle London.”

Hermione just stared passively as she listened. _Damn it Fleur for not sticking to the plan. Stubborn Veela!_

“It wasn’t far away, just a few blocks away, and I thought nothing of it. When we were leaving the shop, Greyback came out of the alley and confronted us. He said he recognized her Veela scent and followed us… Hermione, I’m so sorry… I should have stayed and helped but she told me to run, to get the Cup to Headquarters. That the Cup was the mission. That the world depended on it. So I did… but I sent Tonks and Kingsley a message of where to go to help her. But they didn’t get to her in time. They say it looked like she put up a hell of a fight… I feel horrible…”

“No, you’re right... The Cup was the mission. That was the priority.” Hermione nodded, her anger toward him dissipating a little, “You both did what you had to. I don’t blame you and I know she doesn’t either.”

Bill exhaled softly, still on edge but feeling slightly relieved. 

“What was the shop that was so important that she’d risk her life?”

Bill looked over at Dumbledore, who simply nodded. The redhead reached into his pocket and withdrew a small black velvet box and handed it to her. 

Hermione stared at the box for a moment before opening it. A large diamond, encircled by smaller sapphires, set in an elaborate, flower-like setting on a white gold band stared up at her, silently taunting her. She was overcome by her emotions and fell to her knees. The tears she had been holding back came in waves and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. 

“‘Ermione?”

Hermione’s head quickly snapped up when she heard a familiar voice behind her. She had fallen asleep leaning forward in her chair, her upper body resting on the edge of Fleur’s bed, holding her hand through the night. At least she thought it was night. There was no window in Fleur’s room. 

Her back ached from her slouched position and she stretched as her brain caught up. Her heart sank a little when she saw Fleur’s still form in front of her. A reminder of the nightmare she was living, that everything was actually happening and it wasn’t just a cruel joke of her mind.

“Evangeline?” She furrowed her brow as she looked at the young brunette part-Veela standing in the doorway. She looked so official in her robes, her hair pulled up in a severe bun. Hermione almost didn’t recognize the lighthearted young woman she had met last year. “What are you doing here?”

“I am a ‘ealer in training ‘ere. Since graduation from Beauxbatons.” Evangeline entered, carrying a tray, which she set on the bedside table. She had lost a little of her accent in her time living in London. “I ‘ave been assigned to tend to ‘er exclusively.”

Hermione blinked as she watched the French witch move about the room. She vaguely remembered Fleur mentioning to her that the DesJardins family were skilled healers. She didn’t remember moving from her chair but the next thing she knew she had her arms thrown about her friend, clutching her for dear life as she sobbed into her green robes. 

She was desperate for some comfort, something familiar. She had been holding everything in since her breakdown over seeing her ring, but seeing Evangeline brought it all back to the surface and the floodgates burst. She cried for minutes on end.

“Shhh, shhhh…” Evangeline whispered quiet comforts while she rubbed soothing circles on her back. 

Hermione cried and cried until her tears ran dry “I’m so sorry… your robes,” she sputtered after her tears subsided, realizing that she had left a large patch on Evangeline’s shoulder.

“Do not worry about my robes. I am more concerned about you and Fleur…” the taller brunette shifted her gaze to the woman on the bed.

“Will she be okay?” Hermione looked over at her mate.

Evangeline sighed softly but didn’t answer right away, “We ‘ave to ‘ave faitz in ‘er. She ees strong. If anyone can come back, it is Fleur. She is too stubborn to give up easily. She will get ze best treatment ‘ere, ‘er family ‘as given me access to all ze resources I need. But right now she needs time. Zat is all I can do for ‘er.”

Hermione’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach, “Oh Merlin, I didn’t even think of her family! I’m so selfish!”

“Do not fret. You ‘ave a lot on your mind. Zey would probably like an update from you, zough. Zey are all very mad zat zey ‘ave been told zey could not come, but ze ‘Ead ‘Ealer ‘as made it clear zat Fleur ‘ave limited visitors. It was you or zem and Apolline understands it was more important for you to be 'ere.”

Hermione nodded numbly but didn’t respond. 

“Zere is an international Floo in ze sitting room on ze fifzz floor. You can send a message zat way.”

Hermione nodded “Yeah, I should do that. I don’t want to leave her.”

“Don’t worry, I will stay by ‘er until you return.”

“Thank you, Evangeline.” Hermione rubbed her eyes and reluctantly left the room, bracing herself for the difficult conversation to come.

Hermione kept constant vigil over Fleur, refusing to leave her side unless Evangeline was there to keep watch. She heard from Dumbledore that McGonagall and Snape we’re covering her classes (much to Snape’s delight). At this point in the school year it was just review and prep for the mid-year exams, so it wasn’t too much. Then it would be Winter Holiday and her presence wouldn’t be missed. 

She spent each night leaned over Fleur’s bed so she could hold her hand. During the days she whispered softy to her or read from a book, hoping she might be able to sense her presence and return to her. Hope. It seemed that all she could do was hope. She felt so useless and she hated not being able to do something more. But she wasn’t a trained healer and any attempts she made might hurt Fleur worse. So she sat and waited. She wanted to be there just in case Fleur took a turn, for better or worse. Just in case she needed to say goodbye. But preferably so she would be the first person Fleur saw when she woke up again. 

She knew there was still the overall mission to worry about and she should be doing something, anything. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Besides, they had all of the Horcruxes except for Nagini and Harry, so there wasn’t much they could do but wait and hope an informant found something useful. 

She received a few updates from Dumbledore regarding the prophecy but mostly it was just the waiting game. There had been one confirmed attempt by Voldemort to get the prophecy. He used a low ranking Ministry employee under the Imperius Curse to try to break into the Hall of Prophecies. But the attempt failed because the prophecy could only be retrieved by Harry or Voldemort, so the orb remained safe. 

She had books sent to her so she could keep her mind occupied but it was hard to focus on anything other than the unconscious woman on the bed. She continued to read about soul bonding, wondering if maybe there was something she could do with their connection. Like a Horcrux but the Light version, where she willingly gave part of her soul. The only thing she came across that was remotely useful was possession and that was absolutely out of the question. 

Fleur’s bandages were changed a couple of times per week. Evangeline stayed at her side for the first time, trying to comfort her while the other Healers worked. Hermione watched with wide eyes as the dressings were cut away and the thick gauze was removed from her face and torso. 

It was gut wrenching to see the damage, even after all the treatment she had received. Four deep lines cut across her face, from her temple down to her jaw. The wounds were still angry and red, though fortunately she showed no sign of infection. The same pattern continued down her side, from shoulder to her waist. These wounds here went deeper than on her face. It wouldn’t have surprised her if they went all the way to the bone. 

Yet it could have been worse. Greyback had only managed to land one long swipe at her before Tonks and Kingsley arrived. If he had hit her again, she probably would have been declared dead on the spot. And very fortunately she did not receive a bite and therefore wouldn’t turn with the moon, but Lupin warned that there might be some complications.

Two weeks had passed. Hermione sat by the bedside like she did every night, gently holding Fleur’s hand. She didn’t cry anymore, she just watched her hopefully until she fell asleep. 

“Fleur… if you can hear me… please, come back to me.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur’s eyes fluttered open as she became vaguely aware of her surroundings. She was lying on something soft, propped up on some pillows. A bed perhaps? She could hear the gentle sounds of rolling waves and the air had a salty scent. _The ocean? What was she doing there?_ She had been in London with Bill picking out an engagement ring for Hermione. Maybe? Had she been in London? She tried to remember but the memory was hazy, like a dense fog had settled in her mind. 

She tried to sit up but her body felt heavy and unresponsive. Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, taking in whatever details she could from her position. 

The room was small, modestly decorated. The walls were a soft robin egg blue and there were several picture frames hanging on the wall opposite of her. They were too far away and out of focus for her to see the pictures but she could tell they were magical, the images moving around. 

To her right was a set of French doors, wide open and leading out to a wooden porch. Thin white drapes fluttered in the soft cool breeze. She noted that the weather was pleasant and mild, it felt perfect. She could see glimpses of sandy dunes, sparsely covered with green beach grasses.

To the left was a wooden dresser, a closet and a white door. She stared at the closed door. She wanted to know what was behind that door. She didn’t know why, but she felt drawn to it. Like whatever was on the other side was the answer to all her questions. And she desperately needed to know. 

She lay perfectly still, focusing her energy and trying to clear the foggy haze out of her mind. Time seemed to tick by slowly. Maybe? She had the feeling that time moved differently here, wherever ‘here’ was. The sun seemed to move lazily across the sky, the shadows barely shifting. 

After some amount of time she felt her fingers twitch. Then the rest of her body eventually followed suit, finally waking from whatever was holding her in place. She sat up slowly and twisted to the side, sitting on the side of the bed with her feet hovering just above the hardwood floor. She took a deep breath and stood up on shaky legs. 

She wobbled at first, clutching the side of the bed to keep herself upright. Once she felt a little steadier, she took small steps toward the mystery door, her hands held out at her sides for balance. Her slender fingers hovered over the door knob for a moment before grasping the cool metal and twisting. 

For some reason she had imagined that the door would be locked or difficult to open. Maybe it was just her nerves or built up anticipation after staring at the barrier for so long. She was surprised that there was no resistance and the door opened easily, swinging inward toward her. She cautiously stepped forward into the rest of the house. 

From what she could tell, she had entered an open sitting room. There was a simple couch and some sitting chairs placed around a low coffee table. Bookshelves lined one entire wall, completely packed. The other walls were painted a soft grey-white, reflecting the natural light that streamed in through the windows, all of which were open and dressed with white drapes that fluttered in the gentle breeze, just like the doors in the bedroom. On the other side of the sitting area, she could see a small kitchen and dining area. There was a staircase leading to presumably a second floor to the side of the kitchen. 

While she was certain that she had never been here before, there was something familiar, or at least comforting about the space. She took a deep breath, taking in the scents. Aside from the ocean smell, she detected honeysuckle and peppermint.

“‘Ermione?” She whispered, her voice raspy.

“Hey you, I wasn’t expecting you up and about. I thought you’d be resting still. You’ve been working so hard so I let you sleep in.” Hermione’s voice drifted through the room.

Fleur turned quickly, almost falling over on her unstable feet. Hermione was leaning casually against the doorframe that led outside toward the beach in the distance, her arms folded across her chest and a playful smirk danced across her lips. Her skin was tan and freckled, just like it had been when they spent the summer in Marseille. Fleur furrowed her brow as she looked at her mate. 

She looked like Hermione, but older. She looked to be at least in her late twenties, maybe even early thirties. And she sounded like Hermione, mostly. There was something off about her voice. It was slightly deeper than she remembered. Maybe it had changed over the years. 

“You okay, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I-I…” Fleur stammered “Where am I? Am I dead? How did I get here?”

“What a ridiculous thing to say. Of course you aren’t dead! Where did you expect to be? Don’t you recognize our home?” Hermione quirked her eyebrow, tilting her head before holding her hand out. “Come, let me show you, jog that faulty memory of yours.”

Fleur took a few shaky steps forward and reached for her beloved’s hand, intertwining their fingers. She felt herself melt at the touch of her skin. Her skin was so warm, so soft. The crease of her brow smoothed and she found comfort in their touch. 

She allowed herself to be led outside. She turned and looked at the two story building. The exterior walls were covered in seashells that had been set into the plaster in decorative patterns. She definitely didn’t recognize it, yet it truly felt like home. _How did she not remember this?_ Was she dreaming this? But everything felt so real. 

She marveled at how soft the sand was as it squished between her toes as soon as she stepped off the wooden wrap-around porch. The sun felt pleasant, warming her cheeks as the wind rustled her sheet of silvery blonde hair. She held up her free hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun as she gazed out over the calm ocean, white foam capped the gentle waves. 

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a small blonde girl running toward them up the beach. She looked to be about eight years old and was wearing a light yellow sundress. Her pale blonde hair bounced behind her with each step. What was her sister doing here?

“Ga-Gabrielle?” She stammered, her confusion mounting. 

“Gabrielle? You’re silly, Maman.” The little girl laughed as she approached, it sounded like wind chimes. She immediately wrapped her slender arms around her waist and nuzzled into her for a moment. 

Fleur just stood absolutely still, unsure of what was happening. _Maman?_

When the child finally looked up, her heart fell to her stomach as she was met with soft brown eyes. The girl had Hermione’s eyes. Her tan cheeks were dusted lightly with freckles. _Could this be?_ A tear fell down her cheek as she instinctively reached down and cupped her daughter’s cheek.

“Victoire, where is your sister? I thought I told you to keep an eye on her.” Hermione chided softly.

“She’s fine! She has the kite!” Victoire huffed and pointed at the beach before wrapping her arms around Fleur’s waist again. 

Fleur followed the girl’s finger and she felt another pang in her heart when her eyes settled on a little girl she hadn’t noticed before. 

“Dominique! Come in, love!” Hermione called. 

“Coming, Mama!” The child yelled back. 

Fleur was still rooted to the spot, her eyes wide as she watched. This child looked to be a few years younger than the girl still wrapped around her waist. She had soft curly brown hair, not quite as wild as Hermione’s, and her piercing blue eyes. She had Hermione’s softer facial features, whereas the older girl had her sharper nose and jawline. The younger girl laughed and ran along the beach toward them, her light green dress fluttered in the wind, the kite bobbing behind her. 

Just like Victoire, Dominique immediately hugged her about the waist. 

Fleur’s breath caught in her lungs as she stared at the two girls hugging her. After a moment she finally felt capable of movement again and dropped down to her knees, wrapping her arms around both girls. Her heart was filled to bursting. Warm tears spilled down her cheeks as she eagerly planted kisses on her daughters’ cheeks. 

“What’s wrong, Maman? Why are you crying? Are you sad?” Dominique asked innocently.

“Non, I’m… I’m so happy…” Fleur sniffled and composed herself. “Did you two have fun on the beach?”

“Oui! And now that you’re awake you can play with us!” Victoire bubbled excitedly. 

“But first we need to prepare supper, then maybe later we can have a fire on the beach.” Hermione rested her hand on Fleur’s shoulder. 

“Ouais!” Both girls exclaimed excitedly and let go, racing up to the small cottage. 

Fleur got back to her feet as she watched the girls dart away, tears trickling down her cheeks again. She suddenly heard Hermione’s voice in her ears but the Hermione standing by her was just smiling at her, clearly not speaking.

_“Evangeline! Come quickly! Something’s happening!”_

Fleur looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. Was she going mad? “What did you say?”

Hermione smiled softly, “I didn’t say anything, love. Come, let’s go in.”

Fleur nodded, “Sorry, must have been a trick of the wind.” She reached to take Hermione’s hand and they walked back to their home, their hands swinging between them. 

Fleur quickly fell into an easy rhythm. Life was so simple. Somehow she had no memories of the last nine years but she was determined to not miss another moment with her children. She spent her days playing with them on the beach building castles, looking for shells, or swimming in the gentle waves. At night they would have a fire on the beach and she would tell them stories she remembered from her childhood. 

She didn’t know how she got here but frankly she didn’t care. She felt at peace, content. Like she could spend the rest of her life in this paradise. 

She still heard Hermione’s voice in her head, at least once a day, usually several times. It confused her. The words were random or out of place, there was no pattern that she could distinguish. It seemed that her mate was concerned about her, becoming increasingly desperate as days passed, but she couldn’t understand why. Why would Hermione be concerned? She was so happy. She felt full of love. 

She was out in the garden one afternoon picking vegetables for their supper. She was on her knees as she checked the carrots. 

_“Fleur… if you can hear me… please, come back to me.”_

She straightened up and looked around, “‘Ermione? What is it? Do you need me inside?” She furrowed her brow. Hermione was nowhere in sight. 

_“I know you can pull through this. You’re strong.”_

Fleur stood up and brushed the dirt off her knees, “‘Ermione? What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

_“Please… fight… for me… for us. I need you.”_

Fleur whipped around, her heart raced as she looked for her mate. Hermione sounded like she was in trouble. 

She ran into the house, startled to find Hermione on the couch with one girl tucked under each arm as she read them a story, the book levitating in front of them, pages turning when necessary. 

Hermione looked over at her with a smile, “Something wrong? You look white as a sheet.”

Fleur blinked, reality hitting her. Everything was too perfect here. It wasn’t right. “This… this isn’t real. You’re not real.”

“What are you talking about, Maman? Of course we’re real.” Victoire sat up and hurried to her side, hugging her about the waist. 

“Non… I’m dreaming. This is in my head…” Fleur staggered back, prying herself free. The hurt in Victoire’s eyes almost was enough for her to change her mind, but things just weren’t adding up.

 _“Wake up, my love… please.”_ Hermione’s voice pleaded softly in her mind.

Fleur looked around the room, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at her future. Or at least what she envisioned for the future. 

“I’m so sorry. There’s something I have to do first.” Her heart was breaking as she spoke, but somehow she knew she was right. “I’ll see you again soon, I promise. I love you all.”

With a sharp intake of breath, cerulean orbs fluttered open for the first time in over two weeks.

"'Ermione..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’ve never been in a coma, so I’m not sure what it would be like for Fleur, but I figured her Veela would try to take her to some happy place or something. Then the question becomes does Fleur want to leave? Kinda like that scene in DH pt. 2 where Dumbledore tells Harry the choice to stay or go is up to him. At least that was what I was going for. Shrug.
> 
> I'm not crying. You're not crying.
> 
> Also, I use D&D mechanics, so if you know what a nat1 means... that’s what Fleur rolled during her attack. Also, just like D&D, when you make choices, there are consequences. Sometimes bad ones.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick clarification. Bill was not attacked in the previous timeline, so Hermione wouldn’t make a comment on the change in this timeline, since she didn’t know. Anyway... hope you enjoy the next chapter.

“‘Ermione…” 

Fleur’s voice was weak and trembling, barely audible, but Hermione was instantly awake and alert, her soft brown eyes wide and hopeful as she stared into the bleary blue sapphires looking back at her. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. She blinked several times, not trusting her eyes at first. Was this another trick of her mind? How many nights had she dreamed of this moment? 

“Fleur?” Her voice was equally soft and hesitant, but the moment she saw Fleur’s head move imperceptibly, she exhaled with a heavy sigh and started sobbing, relief flooding her veins. It took all of her self control not to throw herself at her mate, but she quickly reminded herself that Fleur’s condition was still extremely delicate and she refrained, simply holding her hand.

For a moment she couldn’t form words, just staring at the blonde as her body shook through her tears. Her usually clear and logical mind was unable to process anything as she was overwhelmed with emotions. When she finally managed to regain use of her tongue, her voice was breaking as words kept spilling out of her mouth, unable to hold back her joy and relief. 

“Oh sweet Morgana, you’re here… you made it… I knew you could. How are you feeling, can I get you anything? Wait… I need to get a Healer...” She reluctantly got up from her chair and hurried to the door, never taking her eyes off her. She stuck her head out into the hallway calling for Evangeline before returning to the bedside. On her way back she realized that in her excitement she was probably overwhelming the Fleur and she forced herself to calm down.

Evangeline came hurrying, pausing for a moment at the door, shocked to see her alpha awake again. She quickly schooled her features and immediately got to work.

Fleur remained absolutely still, too weak to really move. Her eyes were locked on Hermione, full of confusion and emotion. She would swallow thickly and tilt her chin every so often as if trying to speak again but even that proved to be difficult for her. While the bandages on her face had been removed earlier that week, it was likely that the muscles were weak and moving her jaw would stretch the wounds and pull the tender skin.

Hermione held Fleur’s hand and rubbed small, soothing circles on the back of her hand with her thumb, whispering words of encouragement to try to keep the blonde calm. “Don’t try to talk just yet, you’ve been through a lot, my love. You’re safe, Fleur… I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you. Evangeline is here, too. She’s been keeping an eye on you.” She continued her gentle ministrations as the French healer made various scans and coaxed potions down the blonde’s throat.

Fleur didn’t have the strength to protest and just accepted whatever Evangeline offered her. Her eyebrows furrowing was the only sign of displeasure she could manage. After a few potions, she looked like she was teetering on the brink of consciousness, her eyelids drooping heavily as she struggled to stay awake. 

Hermione’s heart broke to see her mate so weak and fragile. Just swallowing and breathing seemed to be difficult for her, but she did her best to remain calm and neutral. She didn’t want to agitate Fleur further.

Evangeline concluded her examination and signaled to Hermione to join her away from the bed. It seemed that Fleur had fallen asleep again.

“She needs to rest as much as possible. Ze potions I gave ‘er will ‘elp ‘er regain vitality after being asleep so long. It will not be an easy recovery but she seems to be stable.” The older brunette rubbed her tired eyes.

Hermione listened “What can I do to help her?”

“Just be patient and listen to ‘er and ‘elp ‘er as necessary. I would recommend against getting ‘er worked up, zough. ‘Er ‘eart and body is still weak from trying to ‘eal. I ‘ave given ‘er a sedative to ‘elp keep ‘er calm.”

“Right, of course.”

“Zere is anozzer matter to discuss. It is razzer sensitive. ‘Er scars…” 

Hermione nodded soberly and looked over to her sleeping mate. She knew that Fleur was not totally vain but she did pride herself on her appearance. It would probably be quite a shock to take in. To her the scars didn’t matter. She just saw Fleur.

“While zey ‘ave diminished much since ze first night, I fear zat zey will not fully ‘eal, I do not zink. I ‘onestly zought zat ‘er Veela would ‘eal ‘er completely over time but it seems zat is not ze case. We are proud and beautiful creatures, our blood makes us stronger and does not allow us to be marred easily. But I zink per’aps because of ze werewolf curse it was too much to overcome, even for ‘er Veela. It is amazing she is even wizz us now, and even zat is probably due to ‘er Veela blood. A normal witch would not ‘ave survived such a vicious attack, I do not zink.” The healer started rambling, skirting around the sensitive topic.

Hermione reached out and gently gripped Evangeline’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I get it… I’ll… I’ll talk to her about it. I think it would be better coming from me.” 

Evangeline pulled her lips into a wry smile, “She is lucky to ‘ave you. I am very glad to see zat you are doing well togezzer.” She pulled the younger brunette into a quick hug and stepped away, excusing herself to go tend to some matters she had to deal with.

Hermione watched her disappear down the hallway before returning to her mate’s side. Fleur looked so peaceful, angelic in the flickering candle light. Whatever medication Evangeline had administered seemed to have knocked her out again and even the gentle crease of her brow had smoothed over. Now that she knew that Fleur was out of the immediate danger zone, she allowed herself to leave and take a proper shower at the hospital’s facilities and to give the rest of the Delacour family an update on Fleur’s condition.

Feeling refreshed, Hermione curled up on her chair at the bedside and picked up a book from her stack. She stared at the pages, absentmindedly flipped through the pages as she waited for Fleur to wake up again. She stopped on the chapter about possession. Even though she would never consider it, for some reason it was striking a chord with her and she was curious. There was a niggling thought at the back of her mind and by now she knew better than to ignore her instincts, however random they seemed. 

As her eyes moved down the page she was reminded of her last conversation with Harry, specifically when he had expressed concern about possession being the reason for his connection with Voldemort. She knew it was because he was a Horcrux, but in a roundabout way of thinking wasn’t that a kind of possession? Voldemort had unknowingly implanted a bit of his soul inside Harry. Even though Voldemort was not aware of this and couldn’t ‘control’ the bit of soul, it did have an effect on the boy. She got out a roll of parchment and started taking notes, scribbling feverishly. She rubbed the royal blue feather against her cheek as she thought, a much better habit than nibbling on the quill tip that she had developed in her first timeline. It was certainly less messy.

She finished up her thoughts and waved her wand to silently dry the ink. She nearly shrieked when she looked over and saw Fleur watching her curiously. Apparently after nearly three weeks she had gotten used to seeing the blonde asleep so seeing her awake was a shock. 

The quarter-Veela looked much more alert than before, her eyes no longer bleary and unfocused.

“Hey there, beautiful.” She smiled softly and took the pale hand closest to her, rubbing it softly between her fingers. 

Fleur smiled softly but then winced in pain as her cheek moved. 

“Try to stay still and relax. You’ve been asleep for a long time, and you’re still healing, so it might hurt to strain your muscles right now.” she explained quietly. “Are you thirsty? Try blinking twice for yes.”

Fleur blinked twice but otherwise didn’t move.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Hermione squeezed her hand before setting the book and roll of parchment on the bedside table. She made to stand but her hand was caught in Fleur’s weak grip. “You want me to stay?”

Fleur blinked twice again.

“Okay,” she sat back down in the chair, casting her Patronus to send the request to Evangeline. She smiled to herself as she saw the proud silver lioness prowl down the hall.

Evangeline came in a few moments later and helped Fleur drink a few sips before giving Hermione a subtle nod and excusing herself.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I promise I will answer them as best I can. So I guess I’ll start at the beginning.” Hermione averted her eyes for a moment, quickly blinking away her tears.

Fleur just watched her expectantly.

“There’s not really an easy way to tell you this. After you were attacked, you were brought to St. Mungo’s hospital. You’ve… you’ve been in a coma for over two weeks.” Hermione didn’t need to hear or see Fleur’s reaction. Through their bond she felt an overwhelming wave of guilt, shame, and remorse for putting her mate through that heart ache. It was painful enough to make her need to gasp for breath for a moment.

“Fleur, love… please, I can tell that you feel bad about this but there is no need to feel that way. It was an accident and you couldn’t possibly know. I was worried but I’m just so grateful you’re here and safe. You’re healing now, though it will be a bit of a process. The Healers here have done everything they can, you just need time for your body to regain its strength.”

Fleur shuddered softly and gripped her hand a little tighter. A tear trickled down from the corner of her eye, which Hermione quickly brushed away, careful to avoid the pink scar tissue. She grit her teeth, wondering if she should just put it all out there at once, but she could tell that Fleur was quickly becoming overwhelmed with her emotions and Evangeline had warned her to keep her as calm as possible.

“I’m just so thankful that you’re here… try to rest, love.” Hermione gripped her hand “I’ll watch over you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Fleur carefully nodded her head slightly and closed her eyes, succumbing to her dreams once again.

Hermione sat there in silence, just watching her mate sleeping. She carefully brushed a couple of stray silvery-blonde hairs out of her face. Tomorrow she would deal with telling her about the permanent scarring. But for now, she was just grateful that they would have a tomorrow.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Blimey, that was brutal!” Ron exclaimed with a loud groan, tossing down his quill as Snape collected their exam papers. “Even without being here, Westminster managed to make our lives hell!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t _that_ bad. Everything was on the study outline she gave us at the beginning of term. You should have studied more. You do realize that this year we need to work harder for our O.W.L.s, right?.”

“You sound an awful lot like Hermione.” Rob grumbled as he pulled his book bag over his shoulder. “‘S not my fault I was busy!”

“Right, snogging Lavender is _such_ a high priority.” Harry scoffed and put away his extra parchment and quills. “And don’t say that like it’s an insult to Hermione. I’ve actually learned some schedule management from her. I’ve managed to study, practice for Quidditch _and_ keep the Dueling Club going without Westminster.”

“Yeah, you’re a right saint. Rub it in why don’t you. At least we’re done for the term, I can’t wait to get back home. You’re coming with me, right?”

Harry paused. Up until now he had spent every winter holiday with the Weasleys at the Burrow or at Hogwarts, but this year he wanted to go to Grimmauld Place to be with Sirius. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Errr…”

“There you are Won-Won!” Lavender’s curly blonde hair bounced into his line of sight as she practically tackled Ron to the ground. 

Harry rolled his eyes at the rather indecent public display of affection unfolding in front of him. “I’ll catch you later.” He called over his shoulder before heading to the Great Hall for dinner. 

He found Luna and Neville already sitting together at the end of the Gryffindor table and quickly joined them. They weren’t talking, just enjoying companionable silence. He sat and dropped his book bag on the bench next to him, greeting his friends with a smile. 

“Hullo you two.”

“Hello, Harry Potter.” Luna spoke dreamily as she stared off, deep in thought. 

“Hiya, Harry,” Neville looked up from his Herbology book. “What’d you think of that Defense exam?”

Harry grabbed a bit of chicken and vegetables, “It was pretty tough but not too bad. The Dueling Club really helped.”

“Yeah, I like Westminster. I’ve never been able to disarm someone before her lessons. Weird she suddenly disappeared with no warning though.”

“McGonagall said she had urgent business to take care of. She'll probably be back next term.” Harry shrugged, digging into his food. “Any plans for the holidays?”

“Just spending time with my gran. You?”

“Undecided.” Harry shrugged noncommittally. It was true, to a degree. He knew he would always have a place with the Weasleys, but things had changed between them, there was no denying that. And he wanted to see his godfather more than the red headed family. But he couldn’t say this to them.

Luna turned her attention to the two boys. Her large blue eyes fixed on Harry for a moment, making him feel slightly awkward. It was as if she could see through his white lie and what was on his mind. Harry sometimes got the impression that she was more aware of things around her than people gave her credit for, her dreamy, inquisitive eyes were always watching something. After a few short seconds she broke her stare. 

“Mmm, I hope there’s pudding for dessert. I’m rather partial to vanilla, though I suppose chocolate will also be lovely. I should stop by the kitchens to say goodbye to the elves before bed. I haven’t seen Dobby lately, have you?” Luna hummed softly, absentmindedly flicking her wavy platinum blonde hair over her shoulder. 

Harry was glad for the change in topic and they fell into light conversation for the rest of dinner. 

Harry went with Luna to say goodbye to the house elves and to give Dobby his Christmas present. The tiny elf broke out into emotional sobs when he unwrapped a tiny sweater he had magically knit. It was solid red, specifically Gryffindor red, with a large gold D displayed on the chest. The elf quickly put it on over his pillow case and posed proudly, his hands on his hips and his head held high. It reminded Harry of a superhero pose from Muggle comic books. He noticed that some of the other elves shook their heads in disapproval at Dobby’s proud display of receiving clothes. 

Unfazed by the other elves, Dobby hugged them both and got them both some cookies and milk in to-go containers in case they got hungry later. 

After saying goodbye to Dobby, Harry and Luna went their separate ways to their respective dorm rooms and Harry spent the rest of the evening packing his trunk before collapsing into bed for a well deserved sleep. 

Harry felt like he was gliding along, his body smooth and streamlined as he moved. He looked around as he made his way down the black tiled hallway. He felt shorter, like he was looking up at everything. Even from this strange perspective, it felt natural. And he recognized this place, which was reassuring. He knew at the end of the hallway was the door. The door that had been plaguing his thoughts, almost to the point of obsession, for many weeks now. 

“Masssster, I ssssee it.” His voice was strange and unfamiliar.

His tongue flicked out of his mouth, tasting the air. It was stale due to a lack of properly circulating air nine levels below ground. The ground was cold against his stomach and the air chilly. He felt his body tense and shiver involuntarily, his long stomach muscles clenched. 

After a few moments he reached the door. His breathing was coming quickly, excited to finally know what was on the other side. After months of anticipation, he would finally enter the door. 

He reached up and twisted the door knob with his tail. Tail? Hand? He didn’t have time to ponder this because he kept gliding along, entering a large round room. The ground was a smooth marble surface that reflected the blue light of the candles placed at even intervals around the walls. The effect was disorienting and he felt like he was moving on water. There were eleven other doors that lined the walls. As soon as the entry door closed behind him, the room spun and he was forced to close his eyes to avoid becoming dizzy. 

Once he felt the room stop moving he opened his eyes cautiously. While the doors looked the same, he got the impression that they had somehow changed.

“Masssster? Which one?”

“Follow the scent.” A cruel voice responded in his mind.

Harry nodded and flicked his tongue, testing the air again. There were many scents. It was disorienting. But he picked up a smell that he recognized. _Mmm, that young wizard had been delicious._ He followed the scent trail to a door, once again opening it with his tail. 

The room he entered was dark and cold. He carefully moved between aisles formed by floor to ceiling shelves, looking around as he went. As he moved along, the nearby shelves illuminated in an eerie glow, revealing thousands of glass orbs of varying size. Each orb had a sort of ethereal silver mist swirling inside that glowed as he moved close to it, then the light faded as he moved away. 

He made his way down the wide main walkway, looking at the aisle numbers as he slithered along. By now he had determined that he was definitely slithering and not walking. But somehow it felt natural.

The room was much larger than he initially anticipated but as he neared the triple digits he started picking up faint vibrations in the ground. Distinct footsteps. _Someone was there._

He quickly slunk into the closest aisle and curled up, looping his thick coils around himself, trying to hide in the measly camouflage offered by the darkness. A man came walking by just moments later, oblivious to his presence. The man was older, wearing basic, threadbare black robes that looked worn and slightly frayed on the hems. He held his wand aloft and the faint light emitting from the tip revealed a thick head of red hair. _Arthur Weasley,_ he thought to himself. 

“Masssster, what do I do? Sssssomeone isssss here.”

“Kill him. He is an enemy.” Voldemort’s cruel voice echoed in his ears. 

Harry nodded and slowly uncurled his body and quietly moved behind the redhead man, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth as he tested the air. He watched as Arthur Weasley slowly turned around, his brown eyes widening as his gaze dropped downward and he saw him. 

In a flash he lunged, mouth wide and he struck, sinking his fangs deep into flesh before letting go and coiling back up, preparing for another strike. The man yelped and collapsed onto the ground, reaching into his pocket with a trembling hand. 

_Silly fool, why isn’t he defending himself?_ Harry thought to himself and lunged forward again with an angry hiss. As he did, the man threw something into his mouth. It was small and went straight down his throat. He felt a satisfying squish as he sank his fangs into the man’s arm and he pumped venom into the flesh with a soft hiss before letting go and preparing for a third strike. Before he could strike again, he felt like his body was suddenly on fire, like acid was eating him from the inside out. He withdrew quickly and tried to slink away but the pain was becoming intense. The more he floundered and flopped, the worse it got. He hissed and screeched, crying out for his Master but no help came. And then darkness overtook him.

Harry woke yelling at the top of his lungs. His chest was heaving as he tried to take in uneven breaths, his brow and shirt drenched with sweat. His bright green eyes were wide with pain and fear and his stomach churned uncomfortably. An echo of what he had felt in his dream. He took several deep breaths to calm himself down and remind himself that it had just been a dream. Then his vision went white. 

He clutched his scar as a new wave of pain ripped through his body. A pain he hadn’t felt before. Unadulterated, unrestrained rage. But the anger was not his own. Somehow he knew it was Voldemort. 

“Dumbledore… I need Dumbledore!” he shouted over to his panicked roommates once the pain subsided slightly. His veins pulsed with residual adrenaline from his dream and his mind was still clouded by Voldemort’s anger. “NOW!” He yelled louder when no one seemed to take him seriously.

Neville and Seamus jumped out of their beds, scrambling out of the room.

“What are you on about?” Ron grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Get your brothers and your sister…”

“Since when are you the boss…”

“NOW RON!” Harry roared, his frustration reaching an all time high.

Ron blinked at him, surprised by his usually calm friend’s sudden outburst and he went to go get Fred and George.

A second later, McGonagall appeared with Neville and Seamus. Her wispy grey hair was up in a messy bun and she looked very annoyed, though her annoyance gave way to concern when she saw the state he was in. “What is the meaning of this, Potter?”

“Why does no one listen to me?! I said I need Dumbledore! There’s been an attack! You Know Who!” 

McGonagall instantly stiffened and took Harry by the elbow, leading him out of the room, ordering the other boys to return to bed. “Why do you need the Weasleys? I saw three of them grumbling in the stairwell,” she asked calmly, realizing that Harry was nearly manic.

“It’s… Order stuff…” Harry hissed impatiently. 

Without question, she gathered Ginny from the girl’s dorm and escorted the lot of them to the Headmaster’s office, sending her tabby cat Patronus ahead to give Dumbledore some warning.

Half an hour later, Harry, along with the four Weasleys that were still at Hogwarts, McGonagall, and Dumbledore were approaching the rundown storefront of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. It certainly didn’t look like a hospital, but then again, the Leaky Cauldron didn’t look like a pub from the outside. Magic was weird. 

He followed along as they walked through the dimly lit corridors and up the stairs to the first floor. Even though it was the middle of the night, there were still staff members moving about in their green robes. The group passed a few rooms to get to the room that Arthur had been taken to once he had been rescued. Molly and Bill were already there, standing watch over the sleeping man. Charlie and Percy were absent. Charlie was understandable, but Percy was slightly odd, since he still lived in London. Ron had mentioned a sort of falling out though.

Harry felt awkward as he watched the rest of the redheads hurry huddle around the Weasley patriarch and decided to hang back with Dumbledore and McGonagall.

“You did well, Harry. But it is important you focus on closing your mind now. Can you do that for me?” Dumbledore spoke softly, his eyes clear but not twinkling as they usually did.

Harry just nodded “Right… I think I might go stand outside, I feel like I’m intruding.”

McGongall turned to come with him but stopped when Harry shook his head at her. 

He went out and stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall. His head snapped up when he heard a door down the hallway open and his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as his jaw dropped when he recognized the figure that emerged from the room.

“Evangeline?” He croaked.

“Oh, ‘Arry…” The brunette Healer froze mid step for a second before regaining her composure. “Are you okay?”

“Erm, I’m fine…” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I’m here with the Weasleys…” he explained quickly.

“I ‘eard about zat. Tragic indeed. ‘E is in good ‘ands ‘ere zough.”

“Evangeline, might I trouble you for a washcloth and warm water?” A familiar voice drifted down the hallway.

Harry gawked, his jaw practically dropping to the floor for the second time in less than a minute. “Hermione?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are picking up and these chapters are heavy so they're taking me a little longer to finish, but fret not! We shall carry on and persevere!


	37. Chapter 37

Hermione jumped several inches in the air when she heard Harry’s voice down the hall. “Harry?!”

The dark haired boy stared back at her with the same gobsmacked expression she was sporting, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and eyebrows nearly touching the hairline. He was clearly just as surprised as she was at least. 

Evangeline gracefully took the opportunity to duck out of the awkward encounter to go get the items Hermione had requested. 

“Errr… what are you doing here? I thought you were at your internship.” Harry approached slowly, uncertain.

Hermione shook her head before recovering from her shock and moved toward her friend. Despite seeing him regularly under the guise of his DADA professor, it wasn’t the same. She missed him and immediately pulled him in for a hug. And into this hug she poured out all of the feelings she had kept bottled up since September. There had been countless times that, as Westminster, she had wanted to hug and comfort him when they had talked about his concerns about Voldemort, Sirius, or whatever drama was happening in his life. Now she was making up for lost time. 

And truthfully she really needed her friend. Her brother. The past three weeks had been harrowing to say the least and while Evangeline had been a great support, it just wasn’t the same. She couldn’t help the strangled sob that escaped her lips as she clung to him for comfort, her emotions going slightly haywire. Fortunately, Harry seemed just as relieved to see her and returned the hug.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize how much I missed you.” She murmured into his shoulder.

“‘S okay, I missed you, too.”

After several long moments she let go, holding him at arm’s length by the shoulders for a moment to look at him before dropping her hands. She chuckled awkwardly, her mind trying to come up with an explanation to why she was at St. Mungo's. She decided on the easy way out. “It’s a long story… Why are you here?”

Harry looked up and down the hallway to check for potential eavesdroppers before speaking. “I… had another dream. But it turned out to be real, not just in my head. I… I saw Mr. Weasley getting attacked by a giant snake.”

Hermione stiffened slightly but did her best not to react to the news. She had to tread carefully, lest she accidentally give away her secret identity, slip up about her time traveling, or reveal her true mission. She decided to feign ignorance and keep him talking instead. “What? How?”

“I dunno, it’s all a little complicated and I don’t really get it entirely. You know how my scar hurts sometimes? Well Dumbledore and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Westminster… oh, you’d like her by the way. She kinda reminds me of you in some ways. Very no nonsense but we’re learning a lot and she even started a Dueling Club! I'm the president!” Harry stated proudly as he started to get off course in his excitement to fill her in on what was happening in his life. 

“Harry, please focus.” Hermione tried to keep her impatience in check and not snap at him, then added softly, “I’m worried about you.”

“Sorry, I just realized it had been a while since I’d written to you and I wanted to fill you in. Right… so they think I have some mental connection with Voldemort. Which I guess makes sense and I guess I’ve thought that for a while but hearing them say it just makes it real…” he trailed off as he remembered the dream he had. “But this dream. It was so different. Like the dreams I told you about last year, it was like I’d just be watching, like on the wall or something. But this… I was  _ part of  _ the dream…”

Hermione reached out and patted his arm to try to comfort him when she saw him starting to struggle. She had to remind herself that he was only 15 and dealing with a lot of trauma and stress. Not to mention the weight of a lifetime of unfortunate events he already carried. 

“Yeah… so, I was in the dream right… but not as myself. It was almost like I was the snake. I could hear its thoughts as if they were my own. And I heard Voldemort telling me to attack Mr. Weasley. But then something weird happened. He fed me something and it hurt really bad and I think it died? Like, everything went suddenly black and I woke up. But right after I woke up I felt Voldemort got really mad… like, maybe he knew something bad had happened to the snake?” 

“You shouldn’t beat yourself up, it wasn’t really you. you weren’t in control.”

“Yeah, but I still remember what it felt like… biting into his arm. And I feel bad because I really didn’t want to, but I did it anyway. I bit him again and again.” Harry shook his head as he relived the memory, his shoulders starting to curl inward, a sign he was feeling nervous or vulnerable. A few tears escaped his emerald eyes, then a few more.

Hermione’s heart broke and she pulled him in for another hug as he cried softly. She appreciated that he wasn’t afraid to show his emotions, at least around her. 

“It’s all just bonkers. I feel so angry all the time, which I know is probably what Voldemort is feeling. But I can’t tell what’s real or not and it’s scaring me. I feel like I’m going mad some days and I just want it to stop. I just want a year where nothing bad happens.” Harry murmured against her shoulder, his voice slightly muffled against her shirt.

She did her best to comfort him and offer words of advice. Her gut twisted because she knew she was manipulating him but she reasoned it was all for the best in the end. “It’s not fair that you have to deal with this. You’ve gone through so much… But maybe you should talk with that Westminster woman when you get back to school. She sounds like she knows her stuff and if Dumbledore trusts her, she can’t be all that bad, right? You’re not alone. You’ve got friends and the Order and all…”

Harry nodded slowly and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Yeah, you’re right. And she says she wants to help and I believe her.”

Evangeline reappeared, carrying a tray with a bowl and towels on it. She shifted her weight between her legs a few times, unsure if she should interrupt them. “‘Ermione. Do you want me to take care of zis?”

Hermione shook her head “No, I’ll be there in a moment.” She turned back to Harry and gave a mostly true explanation for her presence. “I’m here because Fleur got hurt really badly in her travels. It’s kind of personal so if you could maybe not mention seeing me? Not even to the Weasleys? We don’t really want people to know we’re here, just so she can recover in peace, you know?” 

Harry nodded emphatically. She was grateful that he understood and respected the need for privacy, “I would never share a secret if that’s what you want. I’ll let you get to it. It was great to see you, I missed your hugs. I promise I’ll try to be better at writing to you. Say hi to Fleur for me and tell her I hope she gets better soon, okay?”

“Thank you for understanding and I will. Be safe, Harry.” Hermione smiled at her friend’s innocence and gave him one more hug before slipping into Fleur’s room. 

Once inside, she and Evangeline carefully wiped Fleur’s brow and gave her a simple wash down. The problem with existing in a windowless room for so long was that Fleur’s schedule was all out of whack and her Veela was apparently feeling nocturnal at the moment. 

The silence was heavy as the two brunettes worked but eventually Hermione broke the tension. 

“So that was unexpected.”

“Oui, I did not zink I would see Harry again, truzzfully. Not zat it is a bad zing, just… a surprise.”

Fleur looked between them with a quizzical brow, tilting her head slightly. It had been several days since she had regained consciousness. Even though she was finally able to move and talk without as much pain, it was still unpleasant for her. As such, she chose to limit both unless absolutely necessary.

Hermione knew that aside from the physical discomfort, Fleur was still struggling with coming to terms with her injury and the situation in general. Moving her jaw pulled on the tender skin of the healing wounds on her face. Which in turn reminded her about everything that had happened. Despite all of her reassurances, it was clear that Fleur was still feeling guilty and internally kicking herself for making such a mistake.

“Sorry, love. We ran into Harry in the hallway. Apparently Arthur was attacked earlier this evening and is recovering a few rooms down the hallway. I asked Harry not to mention seeing us to the Weasleys, though. I personally don’t have the energy to deal with them right now.”

Evangeline nodded, remembering what happened at the Yule Ball, “I won’t say anyzing eizer. Zat boy left a razzer bad taste.”

“Thanks…” Hermione smiled after the healer and subtly gave Fleur a look that said ‘we’ll talk later,’ and carefully rubbed a damp cloth across the pale skin of her arm.

Hermione thought quietly while she worked, her mind was mulling over what Harry had said. This whole situation was a double edged sword. She felt like she was wobbling precariously trying to balance everything and prevent things from spinning out of control. While she was elated by the idea that Nagini was dead, which she would confirm with Dumbledore as soon as possible, the attack itself was extremely concerning to her. 

It meant that Voldemort was moving faster and more importantly he was acting differently in this timeline than the last. She wondered if some of the change was due to Bellatrix bending his ear. It wouldn’t surprise her if this were the case. Of course, she had expected some deviation but not this much. As far as she knew from her previous timeline, there had been no attack by Nagini. In fact, the snake hadn’t shown up until the final battle at Hogwarts. Why would he suddenly send the snake to try to retrieve it nearly six months early? 

The timing didn’t bother her as much, since they had practically spoon fed him the prophecy to keep him focused, so he didn’t have to spend months trying to figure it out. It was his change in tactics that bothered her. Last time Voldemort didn’t really make a move for the prophecy until later that spring, when he implanted the vision of Sirius being tortured in Harry’s mind. Nagini’s presence meant that he was being more aggressive in his search for answers and acting more rashly.

In a way it made sense that he would try with Nagini. Voldemort must have figured out that the prophecy orb could only be removed by himself or Harry. Since a Horcrux was kind of an extension of himself, it would _maybe_ be possible that she could have retrieved the orb. There was no other explanation why he would send her. Unless he had sent her deliberately to attack whichever Order member was on duty that night and the attack had nothing to do with the orb at all. That was a frightening prospect.

Then there was the other glaring issue. If the snake was indeed dead, then they had destroyed one of the hardest Horcruxes, aside from Harry. So on one hand that was great news. But in doing so they had inadvertently just revealed their hand about knowing about the Horcruxes. Supposedly ‘unkillable’ objects, not things you could just happen upon by accident and destroy with a basic spell. No, a Horcrux could only be destroyed by very specific and deliberate means. 

Unfortunately for them, Voldemort was extremely paranoid and it might get him wondering about the other Horcruxes. And if Voldemort was on edge, then that meant that he would possibly move from thinking he was safe and in control to formulating and carrying out an aggressive defense plan. And that was the most dangerous outcome of all. He would be even more unpredictable and more likely to lash out. Exactly what they didn’t want to have happen. 

Either way, things were escalating quickly and more violently. In the span of weeks there had been two attacks on two Order members. Was it a coincidence? Hermione didn’t believe in coincidences. She shuddered at the thought and made a note to inform Dumbledore as soon as she could. Maybe Snape could do some investigating in the meantime because there were so many questions and unknowns. Things that she couldn’t answer. Would Voldemort still try to use a conjured vision of Sirius as bait to lure Harry out? What if he used the real Sirius? Or someone else? Was he aware of the connection with Harry already? 

Evangeline left after they finished Fleur’s ‘bath,’ stating that she was going to bed but was just a Patronus call away if they needed anything. Despite having an apartment in the city, she had been staying at St. Mungo’s this entire time so she could tend to Fleur 24/7. Not only was she compelled to do so because of Clan expectations, but she was also just that thoughtful and caring. 

Hermione thanked her and quickly set defensive wards on the door as she returned to the bedside. 

“Everything okay? You looked far away.” Fleur tilted her head slightly. 

Hermione shook her head gently, trying to decide how much she would tell her. She didn’t want to agitate her further but this was not a time to withhold information. And they had made a promise to each other. 

“I’m sorry I’m so distracted. This whole situation is spinning out of control and I’m trying to keep it together. I really need to figure out a way to extract the bit of Voldemort out of Harry without killing him and soon. Time is not on our side. Once we have that plan, we can set our trap and end him once and for all.”

Fleur looked away dejectedly, hiding her face and her scars as she stared at the adjacent wall. “And being stuck here with me isn’t helping things. I’m a burden to you.”

“Please, Fleur… Don't think that way. This is not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. If I hadn’t left Diagon Alley… then I wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t have to worry about me on top of everything else going on.”

Hermione grit her teeth. They hadn’t really talked about what had happened and it was becoming an uncomfortable point of tension between them. They would awkwardly skate around the subject and the elephant in the room just kept growing and growing. By now its bulk was crushing them both and it seemed it would not be ignored any longer. 

Hermione had never really been much of a dreamer or was particularly romantic when she was younger. As a child she had never dreamed of having that fairy tale ending and riding off into the sunset with her princess. And then the War happened and between running for her life and watching the world go to shit around her, she hadn’t had time to even consider the prospect of finding someone and settling down. 

But after living with Fleur, she had allowed herself to consider the future, dream about the life they might build together. The future actually gave her something to fight for, more than she had before. And she would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought once or twice about what it would be like to see Fleur get down on one knee.

But now that one little ring, that was supposed to be a symbol of their love and commitment to each other, weighed more on them than everything else combined. It was beautiful. It was perfect. But now it felt wrong, tainted. Now it was a reminder of one of the worst days in her life. And she had lived through many bad days in her twenty years of life. Part of her wished that she hadn’t opened the box. It had stolen Fleur’s thunder, being able to surprise her and present her with the ring. 

Fleur seemed to echo that sentiment, it had been written in her eyes over the past few days. Something she had been so excited about and finally having the chance to sneak away and pick out the perfect engagement ring. Instead of proposing to her beloved, she was stuck lying on this damned bed, barely able to move. Not to mention the two weeks of not knowing if she would even wake up again. 

“Fleur… this wasn’t your fault.” She repeated softly yet firmly, reaching out to take Fleur’s hand. The blonde tried to jerk her hand away but she held fast. “Love, we need to talk about this. It’s driving a wedge between us and we need to get through this together. I know a lot has happened and it’s a lot for you to process, but I can’t fight this upcoming War and you.”

“I’m sorry, mon coeur… I never meant for any of this.” Fleur was still looking at the opposite wall. “I just wanted to surprise you, show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. I wanted to see your face light up when I gave you the ring…”

Hermione reached out and gently cupped the blonde’s jaw, “You have nothing to apologize for. Because you didn’t do anything wrong. You were attacked. You are a victim. You couldn’t have known…”

“I almost ruined everything!” The Veela interrupted abruptly, finally looking at her. Her eyes were full of unshed tears. “What if Bill had been the one to get attacked? Or what if we both got captured? They would have found the Cup!” 

Hermione sighed softly. “Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? The world is so full of what ifs. But we can’t let that stop us from living, right? If we live in fear, chained down by the unknown then why bother doing anything? You took a chance and it didn’t turn out quite the way you thought it would. Yeah, it might have been against plan and a little reckless, but look at this whole situation we are in! When I turned the  _ Tempus Novus _ ,  _ that _ was really reckless, too! I had no idea what I was messing with or what was going to happen but I did it anyway. But even though there was risk, I made a choice and I committed to it. I had to try because I couldn’t sit around and wait any longer.”

Fleur drew her lips into a thin line as she listened but didn’t say anything else.

“We make choices every day. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. But it’s what we do when things don’t work out, how we pick ourselves back up, and how we learn and grow from our mistakes that define us. You could have run away, but you didn’t. You stayed and fought. You  _ saved _ Bill. I am almost certain that you sacrificed protecting yourself to make sure he could get away because there’s no way _he_ could have gotten the drop on you unless you were distracted or splitting your attention somehow. Hell, I saw you fight a damn dragon. Twice, I’ll remind you. You are the most amazing, brave, beautiful woman I know.” Hermione squeezed Fleur’s hand softly. “And more than that, you inspire me. You fought back against the odds to come back and I’m going to fight for us and for our future.”

“I almost didn’t.” Fleur whispered, her eyes downcast once more.

“What?” Hermione furrowed her brow, unsure of what she was referring to. 

“When I was asleep, I was in a sort of dream. I almost stayed there… it was so real. It was perfect, I didn’t want to leave.”

“What was it?”

“I… I dreamed of our future. I saw our daughters.” Fleur’s tears were now falling from the corners of her eyes and Hermione’s were far from dry, too. ”We had a little cottage on the beach and we spent our days collecting shells and flying kites. At night you would read them stories or we would have a fire with collected driftwood. It was just us. It was serene.”

“So, what brought you back?”

“I could hear you… I heard when you asked me to come back. So I did.”

Hermione couldn’t respond for several long moments, lost in her own thoughts, trying to picture what Fleur had seen. With a sniff, she wiped away her tears and spoke in a shaky voice, “Then, when all this is over… that’s what we’ll do. As long as I have you…”

Fleur cracked a half smile, the corner of her lip turning up slightly, “You mean that? You still want me after all this? You forgive me?”

“Ugh, you stubborn Veela!” Hermione huffed, a strange mix between a laugh and a choked sob. “You are everything I want in this world. What must I do to convince you? Yes, I forgive you for loving me so much you wanted to go get me a ring. The real question is can you forgive yourself? I know you. You’re hard on yourself. I know I’m kind of a hypocrite here, but I mean it…”

Fleur looked sheepish, grumbling a little before speaking rather unconvincingly “Yeah, maybe a little.”

“More like a lot.” Hermione retorted, knowing full well that Fleur was not going to let this go easily. “Will you promise me that you will find it in yourself to forgive yourself and not carry this with you? It doesn’t have to be today. Or tomorrow. But one day?”

Fleur couldn’t contain the smile that spread across her lips “Oui, mon coeur. I can do that.”

“We can get through this together. I believe in us.” Hermione smiled outright and crawled up on the bed, curling up gingerly against Fleur’s right side. “The ring was really beautiful, by the way. I don’t think I told you.”

“Perhaps when this is over we can go pick out a new one. I don’t know about you but the old one just doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, we can do that. Will you tell me about them? Our daughters?”

“Victoire and Dominique… Victoire had your eyes but otherwise looked more like me. And she definitely has the Delacour, hmm, how do you say. Sass? And Dominique was like you, in appearance and demeanor, except she had my eyes. She was fearless and loyal, curious about everything around her.”

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she listened, finally allowing herself to relax for the first time in weeks. They would be alright. There was still a long way to go in their recovery, but they were on the right path now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew... that... yeah...
> 
> Okay, I think that was the last heavy chapter for these two for a while. But there was a lot to resolve and they’re both on the path to healing, both mentally and physically.


	38. Chapter 38

Fleur was released from St. Mungo’s in early January, the weekend before the new school term started, much to Hermione’s relief. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to concentrate on keeping up her duties as the DADA professor if she was worried about Fleur being so far away. They could have come back sooner but they had kept her at St. Mungo’s an extra week to observe her over the full moon. Thankfully, she hadn’t transformed, as she hadn’t actually been bitten, and therefore could avoid having to register with the British Ministry as a magical creature. The only noticeable changes in her behavior were that she was more irritable and craved more red meat, practically raw, barely kissed by a hot pan. But otherwise nothing was out of the ordinary, to everyone’s relief.

They were planning to stay in the Room of Requirement, since it wouldn’t show up on Harry’s map and would keep Fleur relatively close to the hospital wing if she needed anything. Though at this point she was mostly healed and it was just a matter of building up her strength and confidence again. And they could keep an eye on the four Horcruxes they had collected. 

It wasn’t ideal, Fleur was getting restless with her lack of sunlight and exercise, but at least now Hermione knew that the Veela was safe at Hogwarts. And they both knew there wasn’t an alternative. If Greyback had her scent, there would be no illusion or protective ward that could disguise her. Hermione had learned that the hard way when she had a close call with some Snatchers during their time hunting Horcruxes. Despite all of the defensive enchantments she had set around their camp, they could still smell her perfume. Greyback’s heightened abilities would make it even more complicated to mask Fleur’s presence.

After dealing with the Greyback issue, they had yet another hurdle to leap over after Fleur’s recovery. Apolline. 

Of course the leader of the Delacour Clan had insisted that Fleur return home as soon as she was well enough to travel. It had taken careful negotiating and tact to convince her that Fleur should stay in Britain. So much so that it was actually a small miracle Fleur was still in the UK. But eventually they won and Apolline settled for a weekly check in with her daughter via Patronus. 

It didn’t take long for them to get settled into their temporary living situation, the Room had provided everything they needed except their personal belongings. The space had assembled itself into an open living area with a reading space lined with bookshelves and a desk near a fireplace and a large bed and bathroom facilities in the back. Hermione had grabbed their belongings from their cottage but paid the rent for the rest of the school year in advance so they didn’t lose the lease. Just in case they could move back at some point. She had become rather fond of it despite the excessive amounts of plants. Fortunately for her, Fleur enjoyed gardening and had tended to the flower patches. 

They received two pieces of good news the night they returned to the ancient castle. Dumbledore had informed them that the snake was in fact dead and that Hagrid had returned from his mission. The part-Giant would resume his post as Care of Magical Creatures professor with the new term. Which was great because it wouldn’t be suspicious for Colette Bouchard to just suddenly disappear from the teaching staff. 

It seemed that everything was more or less in place and all they could do was wait. And wait. And wait some more. It was agonizing, not knowing what Voldemort was up to, but at least Snape had informed them that he had been summoned to attend a meeting in late January, so there would hopefully be an update soon. 

In the meantime, Hermione had been developing a theory about what to do about the Harry-Horcrux issue and requested a meeting with Dumbledore to discuss it. A week into the second month of the new term, she received the message she had been waiting for. 

Hermione walked briskly up the spiral stairwell up to Dumbledore’s office one evening after classes ended to her scheduled appointment with the headmaster. 

She had already planned with Fleur to meet her there so she wasn’t at all surprised to see the young Veela sitting opposite the aged wizard, apparently discussing the merits of macaroons. 

“I humbly disagree, Albus. But when it comes to desserts, the British have nothing on the French.” Fleur stated flatly but there was a light playfulness in her voice.

Hermione should have been taken aback by the idea that Fleur and Dumbledore were on a first-name basis, but she was just glad to hear this side Fleur again. 

The blonde had been incredibly depressed after the attack as she came to terms with everything. But as time passed, Hermione could see little glimpses of Fleur’s inner light shining through the darkness in her mind a little more regularly. Of course she had been as supportive as possible, listening and reassuring the part-Veela as she talked through her issues, but the healing had to be done at Fleur’s pace and she didn't push her or force her. 

“I’m sorry, should I come back at a later time so you two can finish what sounds like an absolutely riveting debate?” Hermione laughed as she approached the desk, gently grasping Fleur’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

Fleur smiled up at her and reached to her hand, squeezing it back.

“Oh, not at all, please, have a seat.” Dumbledore gestured to the open seat next to Fleur.

“Right, so sorry to have to jump straight to business, but I have a whole stack of essays to grade tonight, so I’m afraid pleasantries will have to wait.” Hermione started, Fleur briefly interrupted to remind her that she could help with the grading. Actually most of the DADA homework turned in so far that term had been graded by the French witch. “Any news from Snape?”

“Ah, Severus has had nothing new to report since his last meeting. Some of the Death Eaters in places of power or authority are assembling and making preparations for others to infiltrate. The Ministry seems to be their key target. On the other hand, Tom continues to fixate on the orb, nearing obsession, which is why he was so rash as to send his precious Nagini. There was no mention of the other Horcruxes, so perhaps he is still unaware of our intentions. That doesn’t surprise me. Even as a boy he was terribly egotistical, believing that others were not intelligent enough to figure out his plans. I always thought that hubris would be his downfall." 

"And Fleur's attack?"

"It sounds like Greyback’s presence in London was just a coincidence. He was running an errand to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley, so there’s not a concern of them outright attacking Order members.”

Hermione nodded slowly as she tried to determine the reason. Probably to check on the Vanishing Cabinet. She remembered seeing him there with Draco and Narcissa Malfoy the summer before her 6th year. The timing checked out, everything seemed to have been advanced about six months, give or take, from how she remembered from the previous timeline.

“So far everything sounds good. And what news of Bellatrix?”

“She was at the meeting, she’s itching to get out but Tom is keeping everyone very close. Though Severus did mention that she let slip that the time would soon come that they would be ready but didn’t elaborate. I hope you have a plan or something in progress?”

Fleur nodded “Well, that brings us to Hermione’s idea… which is why we are both here this evening.”

Hermione took Fleur’s hand, holding it against the top of her thigh. They had already talked through what they were going to tell Dumbledore, but she still felt nervous about divulging something so personal to him. 

“Well, we wanted to tell you something, which I think you already suspect, but Fleur and I are true mates and a bonded pair… and we have been for a while now. I’ve felt the bond between us growing stronger and it got me thinking about souls coming together. That led me to wonder about what happens when two incompatible souls are forced together.” Hermione paused to collect herself. “Do you think it possible that the bit of Voldemort’s soul, if offered a more suitable host, would jump and latch itself to the new host?”

“I’m afraid I am not quite following your logic here, Miss Granger.”

“I’m talking about soul bonding and transference. On the night of his parents’ murder, Harry became a Horcrux, albeit an accidental one. Voldemort transferred a bit of his soul into him, right?”

“That is the theory of Horcruxes, yes.”

“Well, we know that there is already some dichotomy between Harry and the Horcrux. He doesn’t want that part of him to exist, it scares him, and rightfully so, especially because when Voldemort learns of the connection he will try to manipulate Harry to his will. Though I haven’t told him this, of course.” Hermione paused as she remembered the anguish in her friend’s eyes when he thought he saw his godfather brutally tortured in front of him, when in fact it was just a vision implanted by Voldemort. “But perhaps we can use this to our advantage.” 

A spark of interest and understanding flashed across Dumbledore’s usually impassive face.

“Unlike the other Horcruxes, Harry is sentient and exists independently from his Horcrux. Which, as I understand it, is like a passenger in the recess of his mind, subconsciously influencing him. What I mean is we might be able to identify the bit of Voldemort inside him. And if we can, do you think we can isolate that portion of Voldemort and transfer it elsewhere? Say, back into Voldemort himself?” Hermione finished.

“You are suggesting we make Voldemort into a Horcrux using his own soul, and therefore would only be able to be destroyed by Harry or by other means that are capable of destroying Horcruxes? Your little pills, for example?”

“Not exactly. I don’t think Harry is capable of killing with the malicious intent needed to create a Horcrux. He is a good boy with a pure heart. But he also carries a lot of pain and suffering and the temptation for vengeance is great. Wizards and witches have turned Dark for less. I worry that despite everything, he would succumb to the Dark if he gets a taste of the possibilities. Of the power. I merely suggest that we make Harry’s mind so incompatible with the Horcrux that the bit of Voldemort’s soul will want to jump ship at first chance.”

“And, how exactly do you plan on testing this? The mind is a powerful and mysterious place and to do what you suggest would take weeks if not months of trial and error. And I can hardly believe there would be someone who fits the criteria needed who would be willing to try this. Do you know someone with two entities existing in their mind that we can just call upon?” The white-haired man sat back in his chair with his fingertips pressed together in front of his chest as he thought.

Hermione pursed her lips “In fact, we do.”

“Well, that’s why we’re both here tonight and why we told you about our mate status. Hermione and I would like you to try to use us… to unbond us.” Fleur’s jaw clenched tight at the mere thought of what she was suggesting. 

“Not fully unbond us and not permanently of course… but just to see if you can isolate our souls and compartmentalize them temporarily,” Hermione clarified quickly.

“We know what is at stake here and have agreed to take the risk because we can see no other option. Other than destroying Harry.” The French witch continued.

“But for now, we will just work on my mind.” Hermione interjected, ignoring her mate’s indignant sigh of protest. She squeezed the Frenchwoman’s hand with a half smile “You’ve been through so much recently, love. Just let me do this, please.” 

The blonde’s eyes flashed dangerously but after a moment her gaze softened and she nodded sadly. 

The Golden Girl continued, “If we can devise a spell that would isolate the parts of our bond, then perhaps we can put barriers into Harry’s mind that would mirror this. So if Voldemort tried to turn their connection against him, then the bit of Voldemort’s soul would want to latch itself back onto him.” 

Dumbledore thought silently for several agonizingly slow minutes. “I’ve never heard anything like it, but I think you might be onto something. I would expect nothing less from witches as bright as yourselves. You understand that this is all very theoretical and there is risk of permanent damage?”

“It does, but we are willing to do it. We’ve been through hell and back and somehow we still found each other. If anything happens, I know we will find our way back to one another.” Fleur state’s flatly, her eyes showing her firm resolve.

“And if it doesn’t work, then I will take the Sword of Gryffindor to Harry. I won’t let him fall to Voldemort, not again. He deserves better.” Hermione’s heart broke to say this, but she meant it. While she hadn’t been in the Forbidden Forest on that fateful night to see how exactly Voldemort had killed Harry, she was certain it was horrific and undignified. Torture and manipulation were just appetizers to Voldemort, after all. He took far too much sadistic pleasure in drawing out someone else’s pain and agony while inflating his godlike ego. She knew this from personal experience in the graveyard. 

Dumbledore drew his lips into a thin line before standing slowly and walking out from behind his desk. “Very well. If I have your consent, I will use my Legilimency to infiltrate your mind then and see what I can do.”

Hermione nodded and gripped Fleur’s hand tightly, her other held onto her knee. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, mentally preparing for what was about to happen as she felt a presence standing behind her. She and Fleur had practiced both Occlumency and Legilimency on each other last year, but it was not exactly a pleasant experience to endure.

Dumbledore held his hands vertically on either side of Hermione’s head a few inches from her skin, his long slender fingers splayed, palms centered on her ears. He closed his eyes,  _ “Legilimens.” _

Hermione gasped as she felt Dumbledore suddenly probing about in her mind. She watched as various memories flashed through her mind, in no particular order. Searching. Digging.

_ The Battle of Hogwarts.  _

_ Her 7th birthday party.  _

_ Receiving her Hogwarts letter and meeting McGonagall for the first time. _

_ Being teased by Malfoy in her second year. _

_ Bellatrix torturing her.  _

_ Crying in the library from homesickness and loneliness in her first year. _

_ Laughing with Harry over a butterbeer in Hogsmeade in their fifth year. _

_ Her parents. And then Obliviating their memories of her. _

_ Running through the forest being chased by Snatchers.  _

_ Her first date with Fleur.  _

She tried not to resist, she knew it would only hurt more, but she couldn’t help it. She started to squirm and writhe in her chair, unaware that her fingers were digging deep into her knee to the point of drawing blood. It felt like her brain was on fire as Dumbledore dove deeper now that he found what he had been searching for. He zeroed in. Everything was now focused solely on Fleur, starting from the most recent memories and working backward. 

_ Seeing her mate lying on the hospital bed, knocking on death’s door. _

_ Feeling their bond growing between them and sensing Fleur’s pain the night of her attack. _

_ Consummating their love. Repeatedly. _

_ Moving into their little cottage under the illusion of Sage Westminster and Colette Bouchard. _

_ Their time in France and meeting the Veela family.  _

_ Watching Fleur disappear from the graveyard the night of Voldemort’s resurrection and the overwhelming feeling of relief knowing she was safe. _

_ Walking through the fountain garden at the Louvre. _

_ Kissing Fleur and accepting their bond. _

She scrunched her eyes tighter, nearing her limits. Even at the height of their practice last year, she and Fleur had never dove this deep and they never held each other for more than thirty seconds at a time. She had no idea how long Dumbledore held her under, but she knew it was a hell of a lot longer than thirty seconds.

Finally she felt his presence retreat from the corners of her mind and she gasped, panting hard as she opened her eyes. There was a thin layer of sweat beading on her forehead, her hair sticking to it uncomfortably. 

“Fuck,” she murmured between heavy breaths. 

“I wish there was a way for me to make it more comfortable for you, Miss Granger, but I fear that this is just the tip of the iceberg, as the saying goes.”

Fleur had conjured a glass of water for her and she drank greedily before setting the glass on the desk. “It’s fine. We don’t have time for me to be weak. Let’s go again.”

“Are you sure? Do not try to push yourself too hard.” Fleur’s eyes were wide and full of concern.

“I’m sure. Voldemort can move at any time and we don’t have time to wait.” Hermione insisted and shook her head defiantly. She was nothing if not determined. She was trying to put on a brave face, to be as confident and reassuring as possible, but she was still feeling shaken and she was certain that Fleur wasn’t buying her act. She took a deep breath and leaned back against her chair, closing her eyes and trying to open her mind to Dumbledore.

Hermione lasted for three mental invasions that night but she left the headmaster’s office feeling absolutely drained and barely able to walk. Fleur supported her, one hand around her shoulders, their copy of the Marauder’s Map in the other, checking for safe hallways they could take back to the Room of Requirement.

It was slow going and they had to duck into a few empty classrooms to avoid patrolling prefects, but the pair eventually made it back to their temporary home without disturbance or detection. 

Once in the safety of their room, Fleur bustled about getting Hermione situated and tucked in on the couch before preparing a cup of tea for her mate. 

It had been excruciating to her, watching Hermione in agonizing pain and unable to do anything to soothe her as Dumbledore poked around her mind. Thanks to their bond, she could feel it as well, at least a fraction. It had taken every bit of her control to keep her Veela under control and not come bursting out to defend her mate. 

Now her Veela was preening and purring. Being able to care for her mate satisfied her very much. She was quite literally nesting. The brunette was swaddled in a heap of blankets and pillows on the couch. It seemed that she was too exhausted to protest, clutching her mug of tea. Her chocolatey gaze was out of focus and distant as she stared into the flames dancing in the fireplace.

Fleur felt good having a task and being able to contribute in some way. After her attack she felt like a liability and deadweight to the mission. But she also was working on her promise to Hermione, to forgive herself, let her guilt go, and move forward. It was slow going but she was making progress and she was grateful that Hermione wasn’t pushing her before she was ready. Her heart swelled when she thought of how loving and caring her mate was, so supportive and strong. Her heart and instincts told her to do the same for her one, which she would gladly oblige. 

She was finally satisfied once she finished wrapping Hermione in the fifth blanket and cuddled next to her mate on the couch, her lithe arms wrapped protectively around the smaller witch. “How are you feeling, mon coeur?”

“Like a herd of Centaurs was set loose in my mind and ran amok for the past hour…” Hermione finally mumbled. “I could feel him zeroing in on our connection, so hopefully it won’t take him too long to figure out a way to isolate it. I know this is a long shot, but I can’t think of any other way that this would work.”

“I think it will work.” Fleur nodded and leaned her head against Hermione’s shoulder. “The theory is solid and I can spend time researching and helping in any way I can. You rest now, I’ll grade those essays.”

After a month of meeting almost nightly, Dumbledore was finally able to temporarily separate the parts of their bond in a sort of mental cage that Fleur had developed with Hermione’s input. It was an extremely unpleasant experience for both of them. It felt like ripping apart a very strong magnet. Even when held at distance, the attraction between the pieces was strong, fighting desperately to return to one another. 

Hermione, as Westminster, set a meeting with Harry to discuss some Dueling Club business but instead hit him with a sleeping jinx. Dumbledore had been illusioned in the corner, waiting. Once Harry was sedated, he dropped his charm and got to work quickly, setting the mental trap in Harry’s mind while Hermione held him under. 

Now all they needed was for Voldemort to willingly enter Harry’s mind of his own volition and the trap would be sprung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. These two were feeling particularly stubborn and were hiding from me.


	39. Chapter 39

Fleur spent her days alone in the Room of Requirement. As the days, weeks, and months started to tick by, she felt herself going more than a little stir crazy. 

At first she had been able to focus on working on the trapping spell which had kept her busy. Once that was implanted in Harry’s mind there wasn’t much else for her to do to contribute to the War, now looming like a storm cloud on the horizon. Though in all fairness, there wasn’t much that  _ anyone _ could do. All of their preplanning was complete, the Horcruxes collected, the little traps set, and hints had been placed. It was just a matter of waiting for Voldemort to take the bait and reveal himself. 

Some days she got out the Marauder’s Map and watched Hermione pace around her classroom. She tried to imagine what it would be like to sit in on one of her lectures. Other days she would read or help Hermione with grading her students’ homework assignments. It wasn’t much but it helped take some pressure off her mate.

She practiced spells and worked on rebuilding her strength with the rest of her time. She refused to let someone get the upper hand on her ever again and she couldn’t do that if she wasn’t firing on all cylinders, mentally, physically or magically. In her current circumstances, it was hard to work on these three areas but she did her best with the limited space and resources she had and tried to focus on what she  _ could _ do instead of what she  _ couldn’t _ do.

The easiest one to tackle was her casting. After the coma, she had felt like her magic had been ‘off,’ like there was a slight disconnect between her thoughts and manifesting her spells. Even basic spells required more focus than she would consider necessary. So much so that she had to use her wand most of the time and even speak the incantations. She felt like her 18-year old self again when she was just learning how to cast wordlessly and wandlessly. The Room would shift to try to accommodate her needs, often providing moving sparring dummies. It wasn’t the same as a real duel, but it would suffice for now. As the days went by she felt herself getting stronger and her stamina improved, which helped her regain some of her confidence.

The physical conditioning was harder to achieve. Even if she didn’t have Veela blood, a sedentary lifestyle did not suit her. Her Veela nature made her even more restless, with extra energy to burn. Energy that she currently was not able to completely work through. But she did her best, all things considered. She established a workout schedule for herself consisting of basic exercises that didn’t require a lot of space like crunches, push ups, and weight training using random objects that would appear. But she missed running around the Lake or other activities that got her heart pumping. 

There were the days that she was sorely tempted to illusion herself as a student and sneak out of the Room to wander around the grounds with the aid of the special Map. But the odds of being caught and given detention were too great and it was a surefire way to blow her cover. It was an unnecessary risk that she wasn’t willing to take. 

The Room would sometimes make it appear as if a wall were a window looking out over the grounds but it wasn’t the same. She wanted to feel the heat of the sun, as weak as it might be in the Scottish Highlands, and the breeze. At this point she’d even settle for the dreary damp if it meant getting out and about. 

Her mental health was taking the biggest hit during this time. Not only was she trying to pull herself out of her depression after the attack, but now she felt like a prisoner, caged in the same room for weeks on end. Even if it was for her own safety. It wore heavily on her mind and she felt herself having increasingly dark thoughts. Of course she still wanted to stop Voldemort, but she had started fantasizing about all the ways she wanted to get her revenge on Greyback in increasingly graphic and brutal manners. Of course, whenever she caught herself thinking like this she felt slightly guilty. Even though he deserved it and worse, in her opinion, she normally would never seek or hope for violence.

Still, she could get over being bored and missing the sun and fresh air. What surprised her was how much she missed interacting with people. It felt strange going for such long stretches of time without speaking. While she wasn’t a particularly outgoing person, preferring small, intimate gatherings to large events, she did enjoy having in-depth conversations and friendly debates with those closest to her. Of course to outsiders, it seemed like parties and social gatherings were her bread and butter and she could effortlessly work a room or captivate an audience. But that was mostly her thrall and fulfilling her expectations as the future leader of the Clan. In her position, she had to learn and perfect the ability early in life. By now she was a master, able to turn on her social side and charm a room with the drop of a hat. 

In short, she was lonely. The only person she got to see regularly was Hermione. And even that time was limited.

Hermione was still busy masquerading as Professor Westminster so she could keep an eye on Harry and the others. In addition to her teaching duties, she still was running the Dueling Club, which meant she was away for the majority of the day and most evenings. She also had to take her turns in the nightly hall monitoring schedule. Even though the two other Order members on the teaching roster helped fill in for her more often than not, she still had to make an occasional appearance. Otherwise the other professors and even students might get suspicious.

Sometimes Dumbledore dropped by to talk with her or check in, but very few people knew her whereabouts. Not even the other Order members, aside from Hermione, Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall, knew that she was hiding in Hogwarts. 

Her mother knew, too. They had to tell her otherwise there was going to be a very angry half-Veela breaking all sorts of International Travel laws to bring her stubborn and petulant daughter and her mate home. Apolline had initially been irate when she found out about their lies, but after the situation was explained (at least at a very high level with as few specifics as possible), Apolline had reluctantly promised to keep their mission and location a secret, even from the rest of her family. 

The older Veela wasn’t happy that her firstborn and heir was continuing to put herself in such danger, especially after the attack. But at the same time she was proud of her daughter’s determination to do what was right and for sticking with it. Fleur was a Delacour after all and Delacours never backed down from a fight or ran from danger. They were born leaders who served their Clan with pride and honor to the end, even if that meant knowingly putting themselves at risk.

The only other person who knew she was here was Dobby. He had been sworn to secrecy so that he could bring her meals. While he had been extremely confused at first, he accepted the task graciously and made sure to check on her regularly. Sometimes he could stay and talk with her, but more often than not he had another task to tend to and quickly scampered off. Still, she enjoyed his company whenever time allowed.

Fleur was relaxing one evening near the end of March, reading a Muggle novel by the fire as she waited for Hermione to return from her evening hall monitoring shift. She was curled up in her favorite chair, which she had pulled over to the fireplace, her feet tucked under her bum. She was so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t hear the door opening, nor the sound of feet pattering across the room to her. Soft hands were suddenly cupped over her eyes and a playful “Guess who?” tickled her ear.

“‘Ermione…” she chuckled and turned her face upward with a million galleon smile. “You do know I can literally sense your presence, right?”

“Of course, but it’s still fun,” the brunette removed her hands and planted a soft kiss on her right cheek. The younger witch sat down on the armrest, leaning over to read, “ _ Little Women, _ hmm?”

“It just appeared on the shelf today.” Fleur marked her page and set the book aside, sitting up properly in the chair. “Have you read it?”

“I have, though it has been a while. Perhaps I will read it again when you’ve finished. It’s interesting and frightening to think of what life was like back then. I like pretending what it would be like to be a March sister…” 

“Well, don’t tell me, I haven’t read that far yet and I don’t want to be spoiled.” Fleur chuckled, carefully pulling the smaller witch sideways onto her lap. “How was your day?”

“Significantly better now… yours?” Hermione curled up on the blonde’s lap, nuzzling her nose into the crook of Fleur’s neck. 

“The same. It’s so quiet when you’re not here.” Fleur murmured as she wrapped her arms around her mate, enjoying the way the brunette’s breath and wild curls tickled her skin. 

She sat quietly with her eyes closed for a while, just enjoying their closeness. She could feel their heart beats syncing up, it was strangely comforting. After feeling the perceived threat to their bond, her Veela had become rather insecure, demanding the reassurance of physical touch at every possible moment. Gratefully, both witches were more than happy to oblige and they were in constant contact when together in the Room. Even if they were just reading on the couch, they’d have their hands touching or resting on the other’s knee.

Her eyes shot open for a moment and then fluttered shut again when she felt Hermione creating a trail of tender kisses up her neck and along her jaw. She involuntarily shivered and hummed happily, “Mmm, that feels nice.” 

“Good to know. That was kind of the point.” The younger witch deadpanned as she twisted around to face her, straddling her lap and sitting on her thighs.

“Cheeky witch.” Fleur cracked an eye to see what her mate was doing, then leaned forward and kissed the tip of Hermione’s nose. 

“Don’t be a prat.” Hermione teased “You love me and you know it.” 

“That I absolutely do.” She pressed their foreheads together and let her eyes slip shut again as their breath mingled in the close space between them.

Soft lips pressed against hers and she hummed her delight, eagerly returning the kiss as she felt nimble fingers weave into the hairs at the nape of her neck. She stiffened and opened her eyes when she felt Hermione cupping her left jaw, her thumb rubbing a gentle circle along the bottom of her scars. She had pretty much stopped illusioning them away, but she still did on occasion, like today. She could still feel them even if she couldn’t see them.

“You’re beautiful, Fleur…” Hermione’s voice was patient and understanding and she held her gaze, her eyes like molten chocolate. 

Fleur clenched her jaw and offered a halfhearted smile. 

She had considered asking Fawkes if he would offer her his tears to heal her scars but she wasn’t sure if it would work the same way as Hermione’s ‘mudblood’ scar. Phoenix tears had healing properties, but there wasn’t anything that needed ‘special’ healing per se, whereas Hermione’s scar was imbued with a Dark curse. 

And even if the Phoenix tears could remove the scars, she wasn’t sure she would do it. In some ways she wanted to keep them as a reminder. Not of the pain and terror she had endured but rather a source of strength. A reminder of what she had overcome, what she was fighting for and why. So that their children might know a world where they didn’t have to live in fear. It had taken her a long time to get to this point and she still had a ways to go to full acceptance but it was definitely better than December. 

As if reading her mind, Hermione leaned forward and kissed her left cheek along the center scar. “You know, I’m really proud of you… I know this hasn’t been easy on you and you’ve come so far.”

“You’re right that it hasn’t been easy, but I made a promise to you and I always keep my promises.” Fleur shrugged “And I appreciate that you’ve been letting me work through this at my own pace. It means so much to me, knowing you love and support me no matter what.”

“And I always will. We’re in this together.”

“Together,” she repeated quietly before leaning forward to kiss her mate again, her arms wrapping around the brunette, holding her close.

She liked that this had become their promise to one another. It had developed naturally over time since the first time they said it at the lake the morning after the Second Task and they had their first real honest conversation, when they found out who they really were. They had said it many more times, always whenever things were uncertain and when they needed to draw strength from one another. It was simple but still very meaningful. A belief that no matter the challenge or obstacle, they had one another. It was a simple reassurance that no matter what, they weren’t alone. 

She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips when she felt Hermione gently grinding against her lap. Her hands immediately flew to the brunette’s hips, guiding her motions as slender fingers wove into her silky silvery blonde locks, gripping her tight the way she liked.

Her mind suddenly felt alert and simultaneously hazy with lust. They hadn't been intimate since the attack. Partially because she hadn’t been feeling up to doing anything other than soft cuddles and also because they were out of the contraceptive potion. But now that she felt that perfect, lithe body rubbing against her, a fire in her core roared to life. Hungry and demanding. Months of sex hiatus had made her especially sensitive and she felt herself responding much quicker than expected, her pants growing tighter by the second. 

After a moment she regained use of her upstairs brain and stilled her mate’s hips. She needed to nip this in the bud before she lost control.

“‘Ermione… Oh, Goddess… Wait. We can’t… The potion.” She managed between heavy breaths.

Hermione smirked mischievously, a wicked grin spreading across her slightly swollen lips. Her hand untangled from blonde locks and fished into her robe pocket. “Oh, you mean this?” 

Fleur’s eyes widened as she looked down and saw the brunette holding a vial of pink potion “How did you get more?”

“Evangeline… I might have mentioned it to her when you were out and she brewed some for us and sent me the recipe.”

Fleur shook her head slightly with a soft chuckle “Well, I think we owe her an extra special gift at Christmas this year.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to this? We can wait… I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“I think it’s safe to say that I am definitely feeling  _ up _ to this.” 

Hermione’s eyes darkened, her pupils dilating. She held Fleur’s icy gaze as she unstoppered the vial and took a swig of the potion. “We need to wait at least 30 minutes for the potion to take effect.”

“Oh, I think that I can think of plenty of things to do to you in the meantime.” Fleur growled deep in the back of her throat before leaning forward to nip at the mating mark on the brunette’s neck.

“Well then, what are you waiting for?”

Without further delay, she reached down and got a firm grip on Hermione’s bum before standing up and carrying her to the bed.

Fleur was lying on their bed, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over Hermione’s bare back and arms, Hermione draped over her, the brunette’s head resting against her chest. They were sweaty, her hair was stuck to her naked skin and the sheets were a mess and she couldn’t care less. Everything felt perfect and she was content and completely at peace.

Apparently sex was exactly what Fleur needed and the missing piece slipped into its place. She felt more in sync with herself and with her Veela, which made sense, being a creature that needed regular physical touch and intimacy. It turned out that a lot of her residual confidence issues stemmed from her subconscious fears. Of course she knew that Hermione loved her and they were bonded, but she didn’t know if she was still attractive to her mate. It pained her to think that perhaps Hermione didn’t think of her the same way or didn’t desire her after her attack and it was weighing her down more than she realized. But after their night of tender lovemaking, she felt her final worries and insecurities melt away, leaving nothing but an overwhelming feeling of love and awe for her one. She finally felt like she could take on anything, standing strong next to Hermione. Come hell or high water, she was ready to end Voldemort’s reign of terror.

“Mm… I think we both needed that.” Hermione murmured softly, her breath tickling her skin.

“I agree, I did not realize it, but I think I was worried that you no longer wanted me because of my scars. I was insecure about myself,” Fleur admitted quietly.

Hermione hummed her understanding “You have nothing to worry about. In my mind you are still the most wonderful person ever to grace the surface of this world.”

“I humbly disagree… you are,” she smirked and tilted her head to kiss the brunette’s forehead. “Can I get you anything?”

“Perhaps a glass of water would be nice.” Hermione released her grip on her waist and rolled over onto the bed.

“Of course, mon coeur” Fleur could have easily summoned the pitcher of water and glasses to the bed, but she wanted to stretch her muscles, so she decided to do it the Muggle way. She padded over to the table where she had been working earlier and poured a glass, quickly drinking it down before refilling it for Hermione.

A flash of movement caught her eye and her attention was drawn to the Marauder’s Map that was sitting open on the table. There were 5 names clustered together, moving across the grounds. No one should be up at this hour and definitely not entering the Forbidden Forest. Then they suddenly disappeared.

“Uh, ‘Ermione?”

“Yeah, what is it?”

She grabbed the old parchment and held it up for Hermione to see. “Last year you said that this room, the Beauxbatons Carriage, and the Durmstrang ship were the only places that don’t show up on this map, correct? Were there any other areas that were dead zones?”

“Not that I know if, why?”

“Because Harry, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Ron just disappeared from the school grounds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the FTB, I didn't feel like writing out the sexy bits. You can use your imagination *wink.*
> 
> Also, I can't guarantee a posting schedule, they're being super finicky still. Thanks for your patience.


	40. Chapter 40

Hermione immediately sprang into action, silently cursing Harry for pulling a ‘classic Harry’ move: rash and ill planned actions. Act now and worry about consequences later (if at all). Strategy was not that boy’s strength. She wondered what vision he had implanted into Harry’s mind this time around. Would it be Sirius being tortured again? She didn’t have time to worry about this as she hastily pulled on clothes while trying to coordinate their defensive maneuvers. 

First she grabbed her fake Galleon and quickly sent a message to all of the Order members to make haste to the Ministry and that the attack was coming soon. She next sent a Patronus message to Dumbledore, stating that she had sent a message to the Order and that she and Fleur were going ahead to keep an eye on Harry and the others, so he would have to coordinate the Order members moving forward. She also sent instructions for where they had stashed the Horcruxes and the vials of liquid Basilisk Poison in the Room of Requirement. 

Minutes later, she and Fleur were bolting off of the school grounds towards the entrance gate so they could safely Apparate to London.

“You are serious? We have to flush ourselves in?!” Fleur’s voice was dripping with displeasure and disgust. “Whoever planned this as the entrance to the Ministry of Magic had a truly twisted sense of humor.”

Hermione rolled her eyes silently as she closed the door to her stall and stepped into the toilet bowl, “You won’t actually get wet. But I agree that it is rather disgusting and undignified. I’ll see you inside.” She reached up and pulled the chain, feeling her body twist suddenly and squeeze through the pipe. Even though she had experienced it before, it was still an unpleasant feeling.

She stepped out of the corresponding stall once inside, laughing when she saw Fleur emerge from her stall a moment later. The Frenchwoman was shaking her hands as if trying to remove nonexistent liquid. “You do realize you are dry?”

“It does not matter, I still feel gross. That was worse than going with you to collect your basilisk samples.” Fleur snapped, though she knew that her mate was annoyed at the situation, not her, so she didn’t take any offense by her tone. The Veela stopped shaking her hands a moment later and withdrew her wand. “Let’s move, we do not have time to wait.”

Hermione nodded and reached for the blonde, holding her hand as she moved through the dark welcoming atrium. The ‘Fountain of Magical Brethren’ statue stood watch over the atrium, the figures of the Witch, Wizard, Centaur, Goblin and House Elf standing proudly. The last time she had been here it had been replaced by the ‘Magic is Might’ statue, depicting a Witch and Wizard sitting atop Muggles.

Fleur muttered something about ‘hypocrites’ under her breath and Hermione looked at the statue with a scrutinizing gaze to try to figure out what the Frenchwoman meant. Then it hit her. The only magical creatures shown in the statue were the species that had sworn loyalty or service in some way to wizards, that the Ministry had control over. Centaurs were a bit of a stretch, but they had accepted living on Ministry approved lands and in exchange they were more or less left alone. Veela, Merpeople, Pixies and other creatures retained some semblance of self-governance were conveniently missing. Apparently wanting independence and respect meant they were not considered ‘brethren’ to witches and wizards. 

Hermione squeezed the blonde’s hand softly and guided her toward the lift, stating “Level Nine” as clearly as possible. It had bothered her that there were no guards stationed in the entrance, then again, she didn’t remember them being present the first time around either.

The lift rattled along, dropping quickly deep into the ground. Moments later it ground to a stop and the metal grate clanged open and a woman’s voice spoke “Level Nine, Department of Mysteries.”

Hermione’s breath hitched when she saw the sleek black tiles, memories flooded back to her. Even though it was just them, she spoke in a hushed voice, “I don’t know if Harry and the others are here yet, we took Thestrals last time, which takes much longer than Apparating. Then again, they had a head start. Also last time the Death Eaters showed up, so I'm not sure if they're already here or not. I assume they will be in the Hall of Prophecy since that was the whole point of Voldemort's trap. Best we be on guard at all times.”

Fleur nodded silently and gripped her wand tight in one hand. Her other arm was completely outstretched, her palm facing outward at a stiff 90 degree angle, ready to cast with either at a moment’s notice. The woman’s skill never ceased to amaze her and she couldn’t help but feel her heart flutter at her mate’s abilities and power.

Hermione walked along the round corridor toward the end of the hallway, pausing at the door to explain the situation. “Now, when we go in, there will be 12 identical doors. The room will spin as soon as the door closes behind us so we won’t know which door is which. I suggest we split up, we can cover more ground that way. We need to find the Hall of Prophecy so we will know pretty quickly if the room we enter is right or not. I suggest we make a mark on the door, invisible to anyone but us, just in case Harry and the others haven’t arrived yet. It would be rather confusing to see a bunch of marks.”

“So perhaps we can draw a diagonal line. I’ll draw mine going from the top right corner to the bottom left corner, you can draw yours the opposite. Once we check our room we can come back to this center lobby and then complete the X. That way we know which rooms have been verified. This way I will also know which room you are in, in case I need to come get you. Or vice-versa.”

“That’s a brilliant plan. Last time I made check marks. So this is good. So I’ll draw my line top left to bottom right. We check our room and return to the lobby within a minute.”

Fleur nodded and raised her wand, flicking it to create two small hour glasses “One minute. If we aren’t back by then, we know there is trouble.” She handed one time piece over to the British witch “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Hermione steeled herself and squared her shoulders. With a deep breath she gripped the round door knob and pushed it open. 

The familiar sight of a round room with impossibly smooth floor and blue flamed-candles. She closed the door behind her and the room instantly spun. She screwed her eyes tight to keep herself from getting too dizzy.

After a moment the room settled and she opened her eyes again, greeted by Fleur’s icy sapphires. Fleur looked calm but through their bond she could sense her anxiousness.

They walked up to the two doors immediately in front of them and silently made their marks. With a nod, Hermione stepped forward and walked inside her door.

As soon as the door closed, she turned her timer and levitated it next to her, hovering at eye level by her shoulder. She took a cursory glance around but the room was dark. Too dark for her to know if she was in the correct room or not. She stepped forward cautiously, her wand raised. It was eerily silent as she walked, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart echoing in her ears.

Once she had taken about ten paces into the dark room, a soft, pinkish light suddenly filled the room, the soft glow originating overhead. Instinctively she crouched in a duel-ready position, ready to start casting defensive spells if need be. Had she just wandered into a trap?

She suddenly felt a pleasant feeling wash over her body, filling her with a sense of calm. It reminded her of the time she smelled Amortentia in Slughorn’s class her sixth year. The room smelled like parchment, freshly mown grass and then shifted to Fleur’s distinct scent. The Veela’s calming pheromones filled her nose and made her head feel light and hazy and her vision swam with images of Fleur. 

As she stood there in her daze, the scents became stronger and the mental visions more explicit. She whimpered as a wave of euphoria flowed through her body. Then another wave hit her, causing her to shiver involuntarily as a heat pooling down in her core. She couldn’t help her reaction. In fact, she craved it and wanted more.

_Shit!_

With her final functioning brain cells, she realized what was going on. She was in the Love Chamber and that this was probably a trap to stop any unauthorized persons from entering. She had to think fast before her thoughts became too clouded and all logical reasoning ability left her. She quickly cast a Bubblehead Charm and a Scourging spell to clear the air within the bubble that was now encompassing her face. 

As soon as she had a fresh supply of untainted air, her mind cleared and she turned and ran back for the door, her timer bobbing behind her as the final grains of sand dropped to the lower half.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur gave Hermione a reassuring nod before she stepped forward and grasped the cool metal handle to her door and entered.

The room she entered was dark and filled her with a chill that went straight to her bones. Despite the eerie foreboding and her Veela screaming at her, she felt compelled to step forward and walk further into the room. It felt like something was calling to her and she had no choice but to answer.

Once she was further in, the darkness relented and she could make out some of the features in the room. There was a single light that hung from the ceiling, shrouding the room in a pale silvery light. Like the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, the walls were smooth, lined entirely with black tiles that reflected the sparse light. The obsidian black floor was covered in a swirling black mist that rose to her mid-calf, undulating like water. Smoky tendrils danced and swayed around her as she moved through the fog. It felt like the warmth of her blood was slowly seeping away with each step.

But otherwise the room was completely empty.

Satisfied that this was not the correct room, Fleur was just about to turn back toward the exit when she heard a voice that made her blood freeze in her veins.

“Mmmm, my, my my… Look who it is. My little bird has returned to me. I knew you would be back.”

Fleur whirled around in one smooth move, her wand pointed in the direction of Bellatrix’s voice, crouching low in a defensive position, her teeth bared as a growl ripped from her throat. And one second later, all her rage was suddenly replaced with icy fear that rooted her to the spot.

Bellatrix emerged from the shadows. Everything about her was exactly as Fleur remembered her from the graveyard. Her black Death Eater robes swirled around her and blended into the black smoke at her feet. She looked positively feral with her curly hair untamed and sticking in all directions, lips upturned in a cruel sneer, and dark eyes glinting wildly in the silvery light. And held tight in her grasp with a wand to her neck…

“‘Ermione!” Fleur cried out and took several steps forward, unable to stop herself. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, her mind swam as she tried to think of how she could get her mate away from the deranged witch. But the Dark Lady was using the brunette as a human shield and there was no way she could manage to get a spell off without possibly hitting Hermione.

Bellatrix tutted, her voice cut through her, straight to the core. “Ah, ah, ah! No sudden moves there, my little bird. Wouldn’t want my wand to accidentally slip and hurt your little Muddy would we?” To emphasize her point she jabbed her wand even tighter to Hermione’s neck, indenting her skin hard enough to leave a mark.

Fleur immediately stopped and straightened up to full height. She quickly schooled her expression back to a cool neutral. She couldn’t give her opponent any more fuel to use against her. “Let her go.”

“Now why would I do that? I have you both exactly where I want you.”

Fleur clenched her jaw “Then take me instead. I won’t fight you. Do what you will to me but let her go. I’ll… I’ll obey you. That’s what you wanted right? What you said in the graveyard…”

“No, Fleur, don’t!” Hermione gasped and struggled against her captor.

Bellatrix’s lips curled into a wicked smile “Tempting… very well, little bird. Let’s see how well you do with following commands then. If you can be good then I’ll let you have your little Muddy back. _Crucio!_ ”

Hermione went rigid and fell to her knees at Bellatrix’s feet then toppled over on her side, convulsing and screaming. 

Fleur snarled, feeling her feathers pricking at the back of her neck. She forced herself to stay calm and not let the Veela take over. That would be a surefire way to get Hermione killed. Tears streamed down her face as she watched, her heart felt like it was being ripped in two inside her chest. She felt beyond helpless at the mercy of the sadistic woman. “I’m so sorry, ‘Ermione…”

“Good girl…” Bellatrix cooed, ending the spell. She knelt down next to the panting brunette and nuzzled her nose into brown curls, taking an exaggerated inhale, all the while her dark eyes were fixed on teary cerulean orbs, silently goading her. “So sweet I almost forgot about her muddy blood.”

Fleur clenched her fists tight at her sides, she could feel her nails digging into her palms as her talons grew. It went against every instinct to let someone touch her mate, especially in a somewhat suggestive manner. Her Veela was thrashing wildly, begging her to do something. And Goddess did she want to, but not when Hermione’s life was in the balance.

Bellatrix stood and pulled the Gryffindor with her. “You did very well, my little bird. Perhaps you can be broken after all. A deal is a deal… here's your reward…” She shoved Hermione hard and the brunette stumbled forward. 

Fleur instinctively surged forward to catch her to prevent her fall, reaching out to grab her. Just as she felt their skin touch, she saw the flash of green and she felt Hermione go rigid in her arms. 

“NOOOOOOO” She shrieked, dropping to her knees, cradling her mate’s body, watching in horror as the last bit of life flickered and her soft brown eyes went cold.

"I also said that the Muddy was going to be my first victim... Just making good on my promises." Bellatrix singsonged cruelly.

Fleur had never felt such pain before in her life. It felt like every fiber of her being was being split and pulled in every direction, leaving her with nothing but an empty hollowness. She didn’t even realize that in her grief she had fully shifted. Her royal blue wings were drawn protectively around them both as she clung to Hermione, wailing incoherently as she rocked the tiny body in her arms, her vision completely obscured by her tears. 

She felt as if the tether holding her to the earth had been severed and she was lost and adrift.

Darkness was closing around her and she couldn’t be bothered to care. She welcomed it, wanted to be swallowed into its depths and crushed by its gravity. Nothing mattered.

“RIDDIKULUS!”

Fleur froze when she heard Hermione’s voice out of nowhere. Was her mind playing cruel tricks on her? 

“‘Er-’Ermione? Is that you?” Fleur was absolutely bewildered, eyes wide with disbelief as she stared into soft chocolate brown eyes. She looked down where ‘Hermione’ had been lying moments ago but the space was suddenly empty. Her eyes snapped back to brown when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Yes, it’s me, Fleur. You gave me three golden rings of truth for Christmas last year and I used the first to ask you about our mate status.”

“I don’t understand… What happened?” Fleur was blinking rapidly as she tried to process everything. Her feathered body was still shaking with residual grief and overwhelming relief as she tried to take deep, steadying breaths to calm herself down. 

“A boggart. I think this is the Fear Room.” Hermione responded and knelt down on the ground next to her. “When you didn’t come out at the minute mark I came to find you. Then I felt your pain.”

“So that was… that was just… It felt so real! I’ve encountered boggarts before but that…” Fleur sputtered, looking around the room. It was empty once more. 

“The visions are probably more potent here…”

“It was awful! I saw her… she…” Fleur stammered and shook her head as she tried to clear the unpleasant memory from her mind. She pressed her face into the crook of Hermione’s neck and took several breaths, taking in her scent to reassure her.

“I saw the tail end of it… It’s okay, it’s over now. I’m safe. I’ve got you.” Hermione wrapped her arms around her, carefully tucking them around her wing joints. “I’m glad you stayed in control and your Veela didn’t take over. Otherwise this would be rather difficult to talk through this. I didn’t know you could speak in this form.”

“I didn’t either. This is only the second time I’ve fully shifted and the first time was completely because of my Veela’s instincts and I didn’t stay in control. I didn’t even realize that I shifted,” Fleur admitted and looked down at herself. Sure enough she was covered in her white downy feathers, her robes hanging in tatters around her. Her body in Veela form was bigger than her human body and her wings completely shredded the back when they sprouted. 

“Well… this is inconvenient. I will have to stay in this form unless you brought a set of spare robes. I am not fighting naked.”

Hermione shook her head “Unfortunately I didn’t. But I can cast an illusionment on you if you want.”

“No, that is a waste of your magical energy, I will be fine in this form.” Fleur sighed and carefully stood up, gently pulling Hermione with her, very mindful of the sharp talons at the ends of her fingers. Once standing she summoned a blue fireball into her palm and burned the pile of shredded fabric and scraps of her sneakers, leaving no evidence. 

“Well that’s rather handy, I forgot about your fireballs.”

“Perks of being in Veela form.” Fleur snorted and clicked her beak slightly. “Come, let us be rid of this dreadful room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you didn't throw your phone or keyboard smash...  
> If you’re wondering about the rooms and who went where... remember how I said I use dice to determine things? Sorry that Fleur's kinda been getting the crap kicked out of her lately but that's just how it rolls.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some semi graphic violence.

After the Fear Room debacle, they started checking rooms together, not willing to split up again. It had been a good idea in theory not in practice. 

They ended up in the brain room next. Hermione shuddered involuntarily. Even though she had been in here before during the first timeline, it still gave her the creeps to see rows of tanks full of brains floating in a green solution.

“Do not touch the tanks or even get close to them. The brains will attack if they perceive a threat.” Hermione warned, remembering Ron’s foolishness in the previous timeline, trying to pick one up. The brain in question had tried to strangle him with the tendrils that flowed out of the brain stem.

Fleur nodded and tucked her wings tightly to her body. Easier said than done, as her wings were so large that the silver tips of her royal blue flight feathers actually dragged on the ground behind her. Her long talons made a rhythmic clicking on the cool tile floor as she awkwardly ‘walked’ along. Her legs were more avian from the hips down and it gave her some difficulty. It was clear that she was meant to fly in this form rather than walk any significant distance on the ground but she was making the best of the situation.

Hermione had to stifle a laugh at first. She thought that Fleur was absolutely adorable already but somehow her modified hop-step movement just made her even more endearing. But the clicking would give them away, so she cast a silencing charm on her mate’s clawed feet.

The Veela’s sharp red eyes scanned the room as they made their way between the tanks, checking for any Death Eaters that might be lurking about. “So, once we find the Hall of Prophecy, should we set a trap of our own or how should we go about this? You said that the Death Eaters were likely already here?” 

“Well, it would make sense. Lucius Malfoy and the others appeared as soon as Harry grabbed the orb from the shelf, which leads me to believe that they were already there. I didn’t really have time to stop and question them, though.” Hermione replied sarcastically, earning a soft hiss from the Veela. Unperturbed, she continued on, “I am not sure if it will be the same this time, but it would make sense. Either way, I think it best that we be ready for anything. I am not sure how long it will take the other Order members to arrive, until then we’re on our own to keep Harry and the others safe.” 

The Gryffindor went on to explain the room layout of the Hall of Prophecy and what to expect.

“Perhaps we move along the outer wall and keep in the shadows as much as possible until we are ready. If they are not expecting us, we can use that to our advantage. I can cast a few enchantments to help conceal our location.” Fleur hummed as she thought and turned her head from side to side. “I do not sense anyone else in this room, we should move on.”

Hermione nodded and turned toward the exit, reaching out to hold Fleur’s arm. Her thumb rubbed idly across the soft white downy feathers that covered her lover’s body. She wondered quietly how Fleur was able to fully transform when not in a life-threatening situation. After she transitioned during the First Task, Evangeline made it sound like something that was extremely rare for a part-Veela to be able to transform like this. Perhaps it had to do with their mating bond. Fleur had mentioned that their bond would make them stronger. Maybe it was somehow making her ‘more Veela.’ She filed this thought away as something to ask Adeline later. Assuming there was a ‘later.’ But it excited her to think that perhaps Fleur would be able to transition at will. Seeing her girlfriend like this was awe inspiring.

Fleur in her Veela form was a beautiful contradiction. She was fierce and powerful yet gentle. Hard and firm yet so soft. While she knew that this apex predator would never hurt her, she wasn’t fooling herself. She knew that Fleur in this form was more than capable of inflicting serious bodily harm to anyone who crossed her. But at the same time,  _ everyone _ was in some way or another. 

It had always rubbed her the wrong way that while a witch or wizard could easily harm or even kill someone with just the flick of a wand, those with ‘Creature blood’ were somehow deemed more dangerous. They were forced to register and be subjected to unfair, archaic laws that stripped them of basic rights. It never ceased to amaze her how glaringly unequal things were in Wizarding society. Very ‘us versus them.’ From what she remembered from her History of Magic classes, there was always some sort of scapegoat, be it Muggles, Muggleborns or magical beings, there was always a way for wizards to feel superior over others.

Even in the first timeline she had been appalled to learn about the treatment of House Elves, which led her to found S.P.E.W. in her fourth year in an attempt to bring some sort of equality to the House Elves at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, that effort never really took off. But she was older and wiser now, even if she didn’t look it, and being mated to a Veela, she had even more stock in the issue. Perhaps if she survived and got the chance to actually build a career, she would go into the Wizarding law and policy department and try to bring a sense of equality and justice for all those who possess magic. It certainly would make things a brighter place for their future children.

She was pulled from her musings when she heard a strange noise coming from the Veela beside her.

Fleur had closed her eyes and was chittering softly, her obsidian black beak clacking.

Hermione instantly withdrew her hand. She hadn’t realized that she had started petting Fleur and that was probably offensive. “I’m so sorry, was that uncomfortable? I should have asked.” 

“Non, it feels nice, actually. Apparently I’m feeling a little on edge, especially after the boggart, so this is very reassuring to me. I appreciate you asking though.”

Hermione nodded and continued her absentminded ministrations as they left the eerie green lit room behind.

The next room they entered was a stark contrast to the Brain Room. This room was brightly lit and had a golden hue to it. Like the Hall of Prophecy, the room was full of shelving units but with very different contents.

The shelves contained hundreds of hourglasses of various sizes and shapes. From cursory glances, it seemed that no two hourglasses were the same. Some were gilded in gold or encrusted with precious jewels. Others looked more subdued and were made of less flashy material. Some were elegant with elaborate flourishing designs while others were basic. She noted that the sands were different, too. Not just in color but also material. There was one that even looked like it was filled with water.

“I’ve never been in this room, it must be Time,” the brunette mused aloud as she looked around in wonder. 

Fleur hummed her agreement but didn’t say anything as she walked through the aisles. Just like the Brain Room, there was no sign of Death Eaters in this room.

Hermione was just about to turn around when something caught her eye in the back corner. It was a tall black cabinet, so dark that it looked like a shadow and she almost missed it. It looked so out of place that she felt compelled to investigate it. She headed over to it and pulled the doors open, mildly surprised that the cabinet was not locked. 

Both women stared at the contents, their mouths slack. Two dozen tiny hourglasses on chains hung from well labeled hooks.

The Ministry’s Time Turners.

“They’re just sitting here out in the open?!” Fleur exclaimed, completely aghast at the lack of protection for such dangerous objects. “I thought that British Ministry regulated these!”

“I did, too.” Hermione snatched a scroll off the shelf and unfurled it. “They definitely regulate them, this is the ‘check out’ log. But it’s so…”

“Basic? Negligent? Lax?” Fleur supplied with an annoyed huff.

“Precisely! You’d think they would have these under lock and key, not just out in the open in an unlocked cabinet. The fucking hubris of the Ministry never ceases to amaze me! Further testament to the fact that Fudge views himself as invincible and really believes that no one would challenge him or would think to attack the Ministry. The man’s pompous willful ignorance ended up costing hundreds, if not thousands, of lives! He’d rather hide everything in the closet or under the rug than ever suggest that there is something wrong or admit that he made a mistake. I still can’t believe how paranoid he got during the last timeline. The slanderous articles running Dumbledore and Harry through the muck, discrediting everything they were saying because he didn’t want to admit Voldemort’s return because he thought it made him look weak.” 

“Oui, I remember. That is why it is so important for us to be successful. So we do not have to endure that again.” Fleur put her scaled fingers gently on Hermione’s shoulder to calm her.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he was hiding any Death Eater activity from reaching the Daily Prophet. He should be impeached! Honestly!” 

“Impeached?”

“It’s a Muggle thing. A leader can be removed from office and power if there is enough evidence showing they are no longer fit to lead.” Hermione huffed and rolled the scroll back up, withdrawing her wand.

“What are you doing?” Fleur carefully snatched her mate’s wrist, mindful of her talons.

“I’m going to destroy them,” Hermione responded as calmly as if Fleur had asked her the time. 

“Non, I cannot let you do that.”

“Fleur, be reasonable. We can’t let these fall into the wrong hands. What if the Death Eaters find them? We have a chance because they’re currently all accounted for according to the log.”

“You misunderstand me. You are not going to do it because  _ I _ am going to destroy them.”

“Why?” Hermione furrowed her brow and tilted her head.

“Because your magic can be tracked if you use your wand. If someone investigates, and I can assure you they will, your magical signature will leave a mark and they could trace it back to you.”

Hermione nodded slowly as Fleur’s words sank in. “But if you use Veela magic, won’t they be able to track that? What if they take it as an act of defiance from the Veela and they come down hard on you? What if it makes things worse for you? I won’t let you risk it.”

Fleur snorted, which came out more as a whistle through her tiny nostril holes on her beak. 

“What?” Hermione folded her arms indignantly across her chest, looking doubtful at the French witch.

“Don’t tease me, mon coeur,” she scoffed, almost offended “My people have operated for centuries without detection. If Wizards haven’t caught on yet, I seriously doubt that will start now. But if we are worried, I can destroy the entire room to make it look like there was a fight with Death Eaters.” 

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea. Wait, should we maybe take one with us?” Hermione paused, feeling the temptation. It would be  _ so _ easy. “What if we need it?”

Fleur shook her head “Non, time is not to be messed with. Just look at what happened with us. It was a gift for us to return but from now on we need to make the most with our one shot at doing things. Just like everyone else.” 

Hermione conceded with a soft sigh and wistful look but she knew that the blonde was right. It was too dangerous. And if anyone found out that they had a Time Turner, it would put a target on their backs.

“Bon. Now please step back, I’m not sure what will happen when I do this.” 

Hermione did as instructed, her eyes wide as she watched two blue flames manifest in Fleur’s scaled hands and the Veela hurled them at the black cabinet, incinerating the contents. The acrid smell of melting metal filled the air and there was an unpleasant hissing sound but otherwise there was surprisingly no other noticeable effects.

Once they confirmed that the Time Turners were completely destroyed, Fleur took the liberty of hurling a few more destructive fireballs around, smashing some of the hourglass shelves to stage a fight scene. It was quick but hopefully convincing enough. They could have easily spent more time on this but ironically they didn’t have the time to make it look more convincing; Harry and the others were sure to have arrived by now. Besides, even if they had used a Time Turner, their ‘old selves’ were still in the room and it was a huge no for your ‘old self’ to interact with your ‘current self’ when using Time Turners. So with a few more fireballs they left the partially destroyed Time Chamber.

Hermione knew they were in the correct room the moment the door closed. In front of them were hundreds of floor to ceiling shelving units, stuffed with orbs. Finally. The Hall of Prophecy.

Fleur noticed as well and held a clawed finger to her beak and silently gestured, falling into hop-step behind the British witch who led the way through the dark.

The tension in the room was palpable. The silence was so oppressive that it felt like breathing cement. But Hermione steeled her nerves and continued on as adrenaline coursed through her veins. 

Once they were further into the Hall, she paused to cast  _ Humano Revelio _ . She saw two figures appear about twenty feet ahead of them. There were some other pairs of bodies scattered throughout the room further in as well. The bodies were colorful, ranging from red to dark blue based on the temperature. It reminded her of infrared imaging that she had seen in her parent’s Muggle medical magazines. Thanks to Fleur’s concealment charms, the Death Eaters seemed unaware of their presence.

Hermione signaled to Fleur that she wanted to talk and the Veela lowered her head, tilting it adorably to the side. Their height difference was almost comical now. 

Fleur’s usually impeccably groomed sheet of silvery blonde hair was interspersed with long silver feathers that flowed backwards from her hairline and through her hair. It reminded her very much of crested parrots but overall the look contrasted beautifully with the royal blue plumage that covered her head. Unfortunately, when Fleur bent down, her hair and feathers fell over her shoulder and the long soft feathers tickled Hermione’s nose, forcing her to stifle the urge to sneeze as she whispered in what she assumed was her ear hole. 

“There are ten Death Eaters that I can count in this room. I suggest we take out as many as we can as quietly as we can.” 

“Oui, I can sense them. Two are up ahead, non?” Fleur ruffled her feathers slightly as she spoke, likely a sign of her rising stress level but she seemed to be unaware she was doing it. 

Hermione simply nodded “We should cast a silencing spell around them. It’s quiet enough in here that I don’t think they’d notice. From there we can stun them. But I’m worried about the flash of light from the spell. So we will have to sneak up really close and try to hide the light in their robes. I never thought I would condone cursing someone while their back was turned.”

Fleur just shrugged “It is war. Rules of etiquette are out the window. You know they would not hesitate to do the same if the tables were turned. Let’s go, we’re wasting time.”

It was surprisingly easy to dispatch the two closest Death Eaters. Once they were subdued, Hermione cast  _ Incarcerous _ to bind them as well as Petrificus Totalus. It was overkill, but better safe than sorry. She removed their masks to check their identities and her blood ran cold. 

Staring up at her with blank eyes were Antonin Dolohov and Walden McNair. She recognized McNair from the graveyard. But what concerned her was Dolohov. She remembered that he had escaped from Azkaban with other Death Eaters in the previous timeline but there had been absolutely no mention of it in the Prophet this time. Which meant that Fudge was most definitely throwing his weight around and influencing the news. She shook with rage. She knew that Fudge was paranoid and insecure but she never thought that he would be so concerned about his own reputation that he would fully bury the news of the escape.  _ What else had happened that had been hushed up?  _

A soft hand on her shoulder brought her back to center. 

“I can feel your anger, my love. We must stay calm and focused.” Fleur spoke softly, chittering softly in an attempt to be reassuring.

“Right, sorry… I got a little carried away. Come, let’s keep going.”

They managed to take out Nott and Goyle on their way to Row 97 but the remaining six Death Eaters in the room were too far away to get to by the time they noticed five new heat signatures enter the room, walking in a huddle down the main aisle.

“This is it…” Hermione whispered softly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur’s keen senses and hunter instincts were able to detect Harry, Luna, Ginny, Neville, and Ron approaching. While she had sharper eyesight in this form, it didn’t do much for her in the dark. It was her hearing that was the real benefit in this case. She was able to easily detect their cautious footsteps and quiet whispers. Ron had his wand lit and was counting off the aisles as they went along, pretty much giving away their location. She wanted to throttle the idiot. 

She could also hear the Death Eaters’ breaths quickening in their excitement as the teens approached the prophecy aisle. They were talking in hushed voices and hadn’t even bothered to cast silencing or disillusionment charms to conceal their location.  _ Fools, _ she thought to herself. 

It was clear that they were not anticipating a real fight, expecting to take on a group of school children. The thought of a counter attack by two highly skilled, war tested witches hadn’t seemed to cross their minds. And the rest of the Order was on the way as back up.

It never ceased to amaze her how careless people could be when they thought they had already won or underestimated their opponent. But it was all for the better for her and Hermione; it made it easier to exploit their lack of forethought and gain the upper hand. At the same time she stayed on high alert in case the Death Eaters had back up of their own. She wasn’t about to be so self-assured to rule out the possibility and fall victim to hypocrisy. 

She stood as still as a statue next to Hermione as they watched the scene unfold, trying to best gauge how and when to engage. If they struck too soon they might spook the Death Eaters and cause the situation to escalate prematurely.

“Be a good lad and hand over the prophecy. We can help you get all the answers…” Lucius Malfoy drawled as he approached the group of teens, his hand outstretched. 

Even from their position against the wall, Fleur could see it was him because his platinum hair had fallen out from under his hood and was taking on a slightly blue hue in the soft glow of Ron’s Lumos spells. She couldn’t make out the other Death Eaters who were also approaching and encircling the group.

“Come any closer and I’ll destroy it!” Harry hissed, clutching the small orb tight in his hand as he raised it up like he might throw it at the ground.

“Oh, bitty boy Potty wants to pway hardball…” Fleur immediately stiffened, as did Hermione, when she heard that mocking, childish voice. 

“Bellatrix Lestrange.” Neville announced, his voice shaking slightly as he faced his parents’ torturer.

“You look vaguely familiar, have I tortured you before? Oh, wait, I know... you're a Longbottom, aren't you? How’s mummy and daddy? They enjoying their new home at St. Mungo's? Do you get to see them on the weekends? Do they even recognize you?” The dark witch taunted.

Neville managed to take several steps forward before Ron grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back. 

Fleur strained her ears and heard a soft whisper, it sounded like Harry telling the others to hold hands and pass the message on, using the opportunity of the distraction provided by Neville and Bellatrix.

As soon as Neville and Ron were back in the defensive circle, Harry yelled “NOW” and the area was engulfed in a thick darkness. Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

From there chaos broke out. The Hogwarts students were all running back down the main aisle toward the door with the Death Eaters hot on their heels. Flashes of red were being shot off in both directions.

“BRING ME POTTER AND THE PROPHECY!” Bellatrix’s voice echoed in the dark hall.

“Well, that didn’t play out the way I thought it would,” Fleur muttered quickly and leapt into action, the brunette right beside her, blasting the nearest Death Eater. Fortunately, their attention was directed forward and they weren’t expecting the attack from behind. 

The teens had done a fantastic job of holding their own, it seemed that they had all benefited from the Dueling Club. From what she could tell, there were only 4 Death Eaters still standing.

But then as she expected, a half dozen more Death Eaters had emerged from the shadows right in the path the teens were heading. Their sudden appearance and location forced the students to split into two groups, running through the aisles in opposite directions.

“I’ll go left, you go right! Get them out of here, we’ll meet up if we can but we need to get back to the lobby!” Hermione hissed and veered off.

Fleur didn’t bother to respond, just doing what her mate had said.

She came across Luna and Neville, who had been knocked down by a stinging jinx, a Death Eater standing close with their wand pointed at the younger blonde. Fleur quickly dispatched the masked figure and muttered the counter curse, helping Neville to his feet.

“Fleur?” Luna’s normally dreamy voice was slightly higher pitched, her heart beating fast from adrenaline and running.

“Oui. It’s me.” Fleur was grateful the Ravenclaw girl recognized her, either remembering her in her Veela form from the tournament or just had amazing intuition and ability to see what others couldn’t. She turned to Neville “We need to go now. Are you okay to run?”

Neville just nodded with a bit of a grimace as he clutched his side and the small group took off again before another Death Eater could find them. They managed to take down a couple of attackers as they ran.

There was a deafening boom and suddenly the shelves of delicate crystal orbs started collapsing around them. It started slowly but the effect quickly snowballed and the shelves came down faster and faster. The room was filled with a cacophony of ethereal voices as hundreds of prophecies were spoken when their orb shattered.

Fleur spotted a door and grabbed the two students, dragging them with her towards it. She hoped that she didn’t hurt them with her talons but at this point it was a small price when the alternative was getting crushed by a giant shelving unit.

The room they entered appeared to be an office space with desks and filing cabinets lining the walls. It was mostly dark, just a few lights around the walls illuminated areas and cast eerie shadows around the room. They hurried along as fast as they could toward the door on the other side of the room but ducked down immediately when they heard the door open and close behind them. They huddled behind the desk and listened as footsteps slowly approached.

Fleur held a finger to her beak to communicate the need for silence and thankfully both Luna and Neville complied without question. She closed her eyes and listened intently, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When the person was about ten feet away she jumped up and quickly cast a series of curses, launching the Death Eater against the wall with a sickening crunch. They slid down in a crumpled heap, not getting up. She wasn’t sure if she had killed them, nor did she have time to worry about it, as a scent hit her that made her blood run cold.

“Stay here and keep out of sight and do not interfere."

The others started to protest slightly. 

"Do as I say! This is my fight,” she commanded the students, her tone leaving no room for argument.

A deep, gravely voice soon filled her ears.  _ Greyback. _ Her Veela thrashed about in her mind, demanding retribution.

“Well, Veela. I see you survived our last encounter. I knew I should have just gone for the bite first and not played with my food. Oh well, I won’t make the same mistake this time… I’ve never had a bird before. I’ll bet you taste exquisite...” The werewolf was standing near the door they had entered through, his dark eyes glinting maliciously. He licked his lips, his tongue running slowly over his elongated canines, the threat clear. 

At first they just moved between desks as they faced off, sizing one another up. Fleur was sure to keep him as far away from Neville and Luna as possible, always positioning herself between him and her charges.

They stared at each other for a few tense moments before vicious snarls ripped from both of their throats and the fight was on. 

Fleur didn’t think, acting on pure instinct. Her blood was boiling with rage and she was dangerously close to losing her control to the Veela. She was hurling blue fireballs with both hands in rapid fire to keep him on his toes. Greyback for his part was doing a surprising job at deflecting or dodging. But little by little, she started to gain the upper hand and closed the distance.

At first Greyback had a confident, cocky smirk on his face, clearly thinking that it would be an easy fight like last time. What he didn’t realize was that last time she had been distracted in her attempt to protect Bill. Now her sole focus was on him. 

As she ratcheted up the intensity and speed of her attacks, his confidence started to slip, the smirk replaced by a look of fear, then panic as he realized what it meant to face an enraged Veela. It was clear he was outmatched and nothing he could do would counteract the power of ancient Veela magic coursing through her body. He had to back away from her but soon there was no room left for him to move, his back was firmly against the wall. No escape. She had him exactly where she wanted him. She walked slowly and with purpose, her huge wings flared out behind her to intimidate her quarry. 

The next fireballs she threw caught him squarely in the shoulder and directly in the stomach. He howled out in pain and dropped to his knees, desperately swatting at his smoldering robes to douse the flame. 

While he was distracted, Fleur surged forward and grasped him by the throat with one strong hand, lifting him and slamming his back against the wall hard enough to make him cough and sputter for breath. Her other hand shot out and dug into the burning flesh on his shoulder, causing him to yell out in pain as inch long talons worked their way into the burn. 

“Please…” he whimpered, all confidence and bravado long gone. “Have mercy.”

Fleur’s red eyes flashed dangerously, “Non. You have ruined too many lives and caused too many to suffer. That ends now.” And with that she ripped his throat open and let him crumble in a heap, choking on his own blood. 

She stared down at him, her chest heaving. While she felt no remorse, she hated that she felt a spike of satisfaction hearing him draw his last labored breaths. And with one last gurgling sigh it was over. The werewolf would never rise again.

She slowly returned to where Luna and Neville were watching with wide eyes, cowering together behind the desk. Along the way she reached down to grab her forgotten wand off the floor, quickly casting a scourging spell to remove the vile blood from her white feathers and hands. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. We need to get moving again. We must find the others.” 

Luna and Neville got to their feet, nodding their heads slowly. They were still in shock but compliant at least. 

The trio slowly made their way out of the office room in silence, everyone on edge, their wands raised and ready for any incoming attack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and if you were wondering my inspiration for Fleur's Veela form, I'm drawing off of the Dungeons and Dragons race for Aarakocra.  
> https://www.dndbeyond.com/races/aarakocra


	42. Chapter 42

“REDUCTO!”

Hermione whipped around the corner just as the youngest Weasley cast a powerful spell, causing the floor to ceiling shelving units to start collapsing, shattering hundreds of years worth of prophecies. “Shit!” She cursed under her breath.

The sound was deafening, echoing off the high walls and vaulted ceiling of the Hall of Prophecy. It was like a rolling tidal wave and it was all anyone could do to try to escape. In the chaos that followed, the Death Eaters had scattered and she lost track of the flash of silvery-blonde hair of her mate. She had to believe that Fleur and the others would be alright, she had her own group to watch over and splitting her attention would not do her any favors. 

“Come on! Don’t just stand there! Run you fools!” Hermione shouted as she approached the three teens, slipping instantly back into her hardened, wartime mentality, letting her instincts and experience take over. This was not the time to dally about. 

Harry, Ron and Ginny seemed frozen in place, equal parts surprised to see her and also mesmerized by the spectacle of destruction, or in Ginny’s case, shock at what she had done. 

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Harry and Ginny by the scruffs of their shirts and pulled them roughly to spur them to action. Ron would just have to keep up. 

“Where’d you come from, Hermione?!” Harry shouted as his mind caught up.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m here and we need to get going. Keep up and stick together. Be on alert.” She responded shortly as she sprinted along.

“What about the others? We need to find Luna and Neville!” Ginny huffed as she ran.

“Fleur’s got them, they will be fine.”

After that short exchange the group fell into silence as they ran, trying to save their breath for running not talking. 

While Hermione remembered being in this room from the first timeline, unfortunately they were far from the main aisle their path back was blocked by the falling shelves, so she was running blindly and just moving in a direction that wouldn’t result in being squished. Her eyes scanned for potential exit as she led the way through the aisles, her wand raised and ready in case a Death Eater decided to pop up. By her count from her detection spell, there were still a dozen somewhere in the Hall, including Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy. While she assumed that most would Disapparate or flee to a safer area, she wasn’t taking any chances.

Through a break in the aisles, she caught a glimpse of a door along a side wall and she veered toward it, hurtling down a narrow aisle. About midway through, a swirling cloud of black smoke touched down in front of them and a robed figure materialized, blocking their path and trapping them. 

Without a second thought, Hermione shouted “ _ Bombarda, _ ” hitting the Death Eater square in the chest with enough power to blast through a stone wall. There was a sickening crunch as bones shattered and the body was pushed back a dozen feet before it crumpled to the ground in a heap. She didn’t stop to check if they were alive or not as she leapt over the still form. It was likely they were dead, and if not they were about to be crushed by the wave of destruction licking at their heels.

“Blimey, Hermione!” Ron shouted as he trailed behind the others. “You just killed that bloke! What the hell?!”

“Better him than us, don’t think for a second they won’t return the favor if given the chance. They won’t show you mercy just because you’re kids. Come on, don’t stop.” Hermione snapped back, not caring about her mild slip up. She didn’t have time for an argument.

She shoved the door open and ushered them through, thankfully they were responsive to her authority and weren’t resisting her orders.

The room they entered had a familiar green hue to it; the Brain Room. Hermione gasped as she saw Ron approaching a tank, reaching out. Before he got there she subtly cast a quick  _ Imperius _ on him and he drew his hand back. It was her first time casting an Unforgivable, but in this case she thought the situation merited it. It was for his own good, she reasoned. Despite everything he had put her through and all the hurts he had inflicted with his words, she couldn’t let harm come to him. 

“Don’t touch the tanks.” Hermione huffed at Harry and Ginny as she led the group along. At least from here she knew where she was going.

Now that there wasn't an imminent threat of being crushed to death, they slowed to a fast walk as they cautiously pushed forward. Ron was giggling about the brains but following dutifully in step behind the others.

“What’s going on Hermione?” Harry stopped abruptly, pulling her shoulder to spin her around to face him. His emerald eyes were flashing with frustration, demanding answers, his wand clutched tight in one hand, the prophecy in the other. “Where’s Sirius? I saw him here! How did you know to be here? Why were there so many Death Eaters?”

“I don’t have time to explain. I just need you to trust me, okay? Let me help you.”

“I don’t need help…” Harry started to protest.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just for once in your life put aside your damn ego and just take some directions! Stop trying to be the hero, it will only get you killed!” Hermione snapped back at him. He was Gryffindor through and through, and that included pride and brash recklessness. She felt a pang of guilt when she saw hurt flash across his face. She took a deep, steadying breath and added in a softer tone, “I am trying to help you. I’ll always be there for you even if you don’t know it. I promise that I’ll tell you everything once all this is over, but first I need to get you guys out of here.” 

“Why? What are you worried about?” Ginny piped in, her eyebrows practically raised up to her hairline at Hermione’s uncharacteristic outburst and colorful language. 

“If things happen the way I think they’re going to, then this was a trap and Voldemort is on his way. He wants that prophecy and planted the vision in Harry’s head to trick him to come here. But it’s crucial he doesn’t get it. Smash it if you have to.” Hermione gestured to the crystal ball in Harry’s hand. “It is the only thing that is keeping you alive. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded slowly, looking down at the smooth misty orb in his hand. “Why don’t I just smash it now?”

“Because the Death Eaters that are still out there waiting for us have been sent to collect it, so it’s our bargaining chip. They won’t harm you if they know you’ve got it.”

“Okay… and you’ll tell me everything?”

“Yes, I promise. Whatever you want to know, I will tell you. Now come on. The Order is on their way to help, but they can’t help us here. We need to get back to the lobby. I need you guys to remember everything you learned in Dueling Club and be ready, okay? I wasn’t joking back there. They will not hesitate to hurt you if given the chance. Don’t give them the chance. Got it?”

Thankfully they seemed to accept that explanation and didn’t press the situation or ask any more questions about how she knew all that she did. Both dutifully lifted their wands again and adopted serious expressions as they continued forward. Ron floated dreamily behind them.

The group encountered another pair of Death Eaters waiting for them in the main circular room of the Department of Mysteries. Unfortunately there was no sign of Fleur and the others, but due to their bond, Hermione could tell that Fleur was still alive. Angry, but alive. 

Hermione couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her chest when she watched the young Gryffindors spring into action, effectively taking down the two masked men with a combination of stunning, disarming, and body locking jinxes. Using techniques she had taught them in the Dueling Club and in her DADA classes, they worked as a surprisingly efficient unit. It seemed that they took her words to heart and she didn’t detect the hint of hesitation in their movements. She quickly checked their identities but didn’t recognize them. Just some low ranking grunts. She was hoping that it would have been someone of consequence. But at the same time, these low level Death Eaters were easier to dispatch and provided a morale boost.

The lift ride was long and silent; the air was heavy, thick with anticipation of what came next. The teens were clearly in a state of shock and disbelief over what had transpired but they were still trying to keep calm and at the ready. Hermione couldn’t blame them for needing the time to process. She had already been through this, but she clearly remembered what it felt like the first time she had had to fight for her life. 

Hermione cast a strong shield charm as the lift rattled upward, just in case there was an ambush when they made it to the lobby. She hadn’t felt her fake Galleon heat up to signal a new message coming through, so she had to assume that they were still on their own. 

She was grateful for her foresight and pre-planning because the curses and spells started flying not ten paces after they stepped off the lift. Seven Death Eaters were positioned in the Ministry Lobby and were hitting them with all they had. They were severely outmatched, both in power and numbers and at disadvantage with their positioning. 

Hermione did her best to keep up the shield charm while the others started casting offensive curses back. She knew that at this point the inexperienced witch and wizards did not have the strength to be able to create shields that could deflect the strong offensive magic that was being hurled at them. She knew that even one spell getting through would be disastrous to any of them. All she could do to keep them safe was channel all of her energy into her shields to try to hold off the attacks until the Order or Fleur arrived and leveled the playing field. 

Just as she felt her strength waning, there was a flash of bright white light followed by panicked yells as several members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived and started dueling the Death Eaters.

Once the focus had shifted from them, Hermione dropped her shield and joined the fray along with Harry, Ginny and Ron.

In seconds the room descended into chaos. The Fountain of Magical Brethren was blasted to pieces: the Wizard had been decapitated, the Centaur’s torso had been shot clean off and the Goblin was knocked off its base and was lying on its side. The smooth tile walls and floor were suddenly missing huge chunks as curses missed or were deflected. It brought her right back to the Battle of Hogwarts, minus the Acromantula, Dementors, and Giants at least.

Sirius and Harry were facing off against Malfoy and Yaxley. Moody, Kingsley and Ginny were engaged in a fierce duel with Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange. Tonks and Ron were teamed up, fighting back to back, each with a Death Eater of their own. Lupin was lying on the ground, unconscious but breathing, a deep gash cut across his brow and a stream of crimson blood flowing from the wound. 

That left Bellatrix. Hermione ran directly at the Dark witch, throwing hexes and curses on her approach.

“Oh, so the little Muddy thinks she can take me on, does she? You don’t have a chance you filthy little bitch.” Bellatrix drawled, lazily flicking her walnut wand to counter Hermione’s spells. Her thin lips were pulled into a wicked sneer and her dark eyes glinted wildly. “Truthfully I was hoping I’d see you here. You’ve been on my mind quite a bit lately. I’ve had many long hours fantasizing about all the fun we could have together. Well come on,  _ Golden Girl,  _ let’s not waste another moment. Let’s play, shall we?”

Hermione snapped. For a moment it was as if she had been transported to Malfoy Manor again. Her mind was clouded by the memories that still haunted her. 

Her throat went dry and felt scratchy, just like it had when she had screamed herself hoarse to the point that her voice failed and nothing but silent screams ripped from her throat. Even after receiving countless Cruciatus Curses she hadn’t broken. Not once did she betray her friends or the Order. She managed to deny knowing anything about the Sword of Gryffindor or the existence of the Horcruxes. She had kept their secret safe. She had endured immeasurable pain and held her own for longer than she imagined she could.

That night was the first time she truly realized her own mortality. She had accepted that she was going to die. In fact once Bellatrix was done interrogating her she was practically begging and pleading for death. But instead of the relief from her suffering, she had been rewarded by being branded with a cursed dagger. 

Her left arm burned uncomfortably. Even though the wound had been healed by Fawkes before she made the time jump and this body hadn’t felt the edge of the wretched blade, it seemed her subconscious remembered the pain from having her flesh carved. The phantom pain in her arm was enough to snap her out of her spiraling mind and she was immediately brought back to the present. Her attention focused entirely on her opponent. 

It was like she was wearing blinders. All she saw was Bellatrix. All that mattered was making her pay. Not only for herself but all the other victims who had been tortured by the Death Eater and didn’t get the chance to avenge themselves. She knew that only one would walk away from this fight and she was ready to do whatever it took to stop her right then and there.

Hermione knew that Bellatrix Lestrange was an accomplished duelist and she kept her cards close to her chest, trying her best to not reveal her ability, even downplaying her own skill. In the back of her mind she remembered what Fleur had told her about letting your opponents underestimate you. Let them be lulled into a false sense of security. Bide your time and then deliver the final blow when they least expect it.

Bellatrix was starting off slow, testing her opponent and sizing her up, throwing curses that Hermione recognized as non-lethal. Painful, but at least they wouldn’t kill her right off the bat. She knew that the other witch derived a sick pleasure from tormenting her opponent and would want to draw this fight out as long as possible to maximize her fun. Especially after being cooped up for months on end. She was like a cat playing with an insect, batting it around, ripping off its wings, letting it go just to reel it back in as it decided whether or not to keep its victim alive.

The two women exchanged spells, both completely engaged and unaware of what was happening around them. Round after round, volley after volley. The deranged witch kept cackling unpleasantly, clearly enjoying herself.

Time and space seemed to have lost all meaning to Hermione. It was just them. After what felt like hours, but was more likely just a few very intense minutes, Hermione finally saw her opening. Bellatrix was standing with her back to what remained of the Fountain and the large chunks of statue that were scattered across the floor. With all of her efforts focused forward, Bellatrix wouldn’t be expecting an attack from behind. 

“Mmm… not bad, Muddy. I almost have to put in an effort… but really you stand no chance. Someone like you couldn’t possibly think they have any hope against me. Very soon I’ll wipe any trace of you and your filthy blood off this earth and no one will care.” Bellatrix taunted, trying to get under her skin and mess with her focus. She threw another, more powerful hex. 

Hermione didn’t answer, she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. She dodged the incoming spell and blasted off an  _ Incarcerous _ with her wand as a diversion. With her off hand she summoned the Wizard’s head, very similar to what she had done with Fleur and the Triwizard Cup all those months ago. With a twist of her wrist she sent the heavy bit of the statue crashing into Bellatrix, knocking her in the back of the skull. The witch’s eyes went comically large for a moment and then went out of focus as she dropped to her knees, momentarily stunned.

Hermione quickly disarmed her and put her in a body bind.

Even in her dazed state, the dark haired witch was glaring daggers, an unpleasant sneer appearing on her face as she started to fight the body lock, regaining use of her head first. “You’ll never win… He is back and you will lose everything. He will raze this world to the ground and build it anew and it will be glorious!” 

“Maybe…” Hermione replied calmly. “But at least you won’t be around to see it.” 

Bellatrix’s eyes widened when she heard that and she started to shudder, desperately trying to break the spell holding her in place. 

Hermione never enjoyed taking life, but in this case there was no choice. Sending Bellatrix back to Azkaban would just prolong the inevitable and it was likely that she would find a way to escape again. And when she did escape, she would probably hold a grudge and come after her, putting her future self and family at risk. She silently cast a severing charm and drew her wand across the other woman’s throat. She stood there in silence as she watched crimson blood begin to pool on the floor, the life fade from her foe. 

With one last choked breath, dark eyes rolled back into her head. Bellatrix Lestrange was no more.

Hermione took a deep breath of relief and finally tore her eyes away from the vanquished witch and looked around the room. It seemed that her duel was the last to finish. Thankfully, the other Order members were still standing, albeit some were looking a little worse for wear. Moody and Kingsley were piling up the bodies of the other Death Eaters while Sirius and Tonks were talking with Harry, Ron and Ginny, checking them over.

Now that Hermione had a chance to rest and her adrenaline rush started to fade, everything caught up quickly. She felt absolutely exhausted, her magical core completely drained. Her body ached and felt like it was made of lead, too heavy to move. Her side was burning where Bellatrix had managed to land a stinging jinx. 

Out of nowhere she felt a surge of warmth and pure joy radiating in her chest and she smiled, knowing exactly what was to come. The perfect antidote for her current state.

“‘Ermione!”

“Fleur…” she replied weakly as she was embraced by strong, feathered arms.

“I’m so sorry for being late, ma belle. Are you hurt?” Fleur was carefully inspecting her. 

“I’m fine, Fleur. She’s gone.” Hermione turned in her mate’s arms and buried her face into the soft plumage of her chest, seeking relief and comfort. The effect was instantaneous. The pain and exhaustion melted away and she felt her strength returning. Thank Merlin she was bonded to such a strong being.

Fleur just gently rubbed her back as well as she could in her current state, whispering soft nothings to soothe her mate.

After a few minutes Hermione pulled away, earning an adorable whine from the Veela. “I know, love. As much as I’d love to stay here, we should check on the others. We still have a task to finish and we don’t have much time.”

“Fine, but after this we are taking the world’s longest vacation.” Fleur conceded and led the way back to the others.

“Wotcher there!” Tonks perked up when she saw Hermione and Fleur approaching. 

“All right, Hermione?” Sirius gave her a quick look, his eyes flicking over to the body of the fallen witch “Can’t believe you took on my cousin single handedly. Good for you. The world’s better off now.”

“It’s like you fools have never been in a war before. We still got a job to do and now’s not the time for the cozy catch up!” Moody growled at the older Order members. “Tell us the next step, Granger. Dumbledore told us that you have some intel and to do whatever you say.”

“Right, we need to destroy the Horcruxes, so gather around and place them on the ground.” Hermione scratched the back of her neck, feeling a little awkward at having all eyes on her.

Following her instructions, Kingsley pulled out the Diadem from his cloak pocket. Moody had the Ring in an enchanted jar, Tonks had the Hufflepuff Cup and Sirius the Locket. They circled up and put the Horcruxes in the center.

“Now, on the count of three, destroy your Horcrux and step back. The bits of soul trapped in each one will want to fight and I’m not sure what will happen, so be on guard. You lot,” Hermione gestured to the current students, “Go stand over there and keep an eye on Harry.”

Once everyone was in place, Hermione counted off and the three Aurors and Sirius poured their vial of basilisk poison.

Several things happened simultaneously. The lobby was filled with a horrible screeching noise as plumes of dark smoke erupted from the Horcruxes, which formed mangled and twisted forms that resembled Voldemort. Harry collapsed and was writhing in pain, silently crying out as his friends did their best to comfort him. Hermione’s gut twisted and a cool dread spread through her, her instincts telling her that something was about to happen.

The next moment Harry was on his feet and released a powerful shockwave that radiated outward from his body. Those closest to him were knocked unconscious instantly, taking the full force of the spell. His eyes burned an iridescent green, the likes of which Hermione had never seen before. 

She was shocked, powerless to do anything as he sent five stunning spells, instantaneously taking out the five older Order members, leaving her standing. It dawned on her a second too late that Harry was fully possessed. Which had been the plan all along but somehow she hadn’t envisioned it happening this way. Then again, she wasn’t entirely sure what she expected happening when Voldemort possessed her best friend. She prayed that Dumbledore’s mind trap would work. Otherwise things were about to get very ugly.

“You filthy little Mudblood. I don’t know how you found out about my secret but you almost ruined everything. Now you will suffer…” Harry drawled, his voice higher pitched and laced with venom. _“Crucio!”_

Hermione was on the ground, writhing in pain. She had been on the receiving end of the Cruciatus from Bellatrix, but the wrath of Voldemort was exponentially worse. It felt like a thousand white hot daggers were being shoved into her body at once, burning her from the inside out.

“Harry, please… this isn’t you!” She pleaded through her tears as the pain subsided. “You have to fight it!”

“Oh, you foolish, idiotic girl… Harry isn’t strong enough to fight me. He’s just a boy with no particular talent, made famous by sheer accident. I can see it all in his mind!”

“He’s stronger than you know…” Hermione gasped as she struggled to retain consciousness.

“Your ill-placed trust in the boy is pathetic! No one will beat me! Soon everyone will witness my power! Everyone will bow to Lord Voldemort or die at my feet!” Voldemort’s high pitched cackle tore from Harry’s throat and Hermione felt the blinding pain of another Cruciatus.

“Harry… I know you’re in there… listen to me… remember what I told you on the train. You are loved by so many. Remember who you are and who is in your life. That's real strength and power...”

“You’re just like the old fool… He was always spouting off that ‘love is going to save the world.’ Love is weakness! Relationships with others tie you down and prevent you from achieving greatness! There is only the power and what you are willing to do to take for yourself!” Voldemort screeched.

“You’re wrong.” Harry’s eyes flashed and his voice returned to normal for a second before switching back. 

“What? How?” Voldemort stammered, his tone one of disbelief.

“The people around you give you strength.” Harry's voice continued, not answering Voldemort’s questions. "Something you will never understand. You'll never understand what it means to be truly loved. And you will fail because of it..."

Hermione blinked as she watched this strange back and forth happening between Harry and Voldemort as they both wrestled for control of his body and mind.

“You’re both fools and I will destroy you. Prepare to meet your end at the hands of Lord Voldemort!” Voldemort screeched and withdrew from Harry’s body. Harry fell to his knees, panting hard.

“You okay Harry?”

“I think so… I feel different though, better than I ever have…”

Hermione didn’t have a chance to respond, as Voldemort appeared suddenly in front of them in the flesh. His red eyes were flashing dangerously with pure, unadulterated rage. He reached down and grabbed her by the throat, hoisting her up off the ground so that she had to stand on tip-toes.

“I will destroy you…” Voldemort seethed, punctuating each word. He slowly raised his wand to emphasize his intent and add dramatic flare.

“No, take me first!”

“Harry, I thought I told you not be a fucking hero!”

That got Voldemort’s attention and he dropped her and turned to face the Boy Who Lived. “There will be no heroes! There will only be your defeat! You think you’re going to be the hero again? Swoop in and save the day?” He started a classic rambling monologue going on about all the ways they had failed and that their plans were doomed and his reign was inevitable.

“Remember Quirrell… do that.” Hermione hissed under her breath while Voldemort was distracted. She saw Harry’s head tilt very subtly to acknowledge that he had heard her.

“Hey, Voldemort,” Harry interrupted the Dark Lord suddenly. “You talk too much!” He surged forward and threw his hands on Voldemort’s face. 

The effect was instant. Everywhere that Harry touched was covered in angry blisters and there was a putrid odor of burning flesh. Even after Harry removed his hands the burn continued to spread.

Voldemort dropped to his knees, clutching his face as he howled in pain. “How? I broke that spell when I used your blood to return!”

“Are you sure about that?” Hermione pulled up her sleeve, revealing the long jagged scar from when Wormtail cut her in the graveyard.

“NO!” Voldemort’s red eyes widened as reality came crashing down around him.

“That's right. You weren’t resurrected with Harry’s blood. You were brought back with mine. So you see, that spell was never broken and Harry is still under the protection of Lily Potter. And now that you have no Horcruxes left, this is the end for you… you don’t get any more chances.”

“Noooooo!” Voldemort screamed in anguish, his entire face now distorted by the burns.

The two teens just stared as Voldemort crumpled to the ground, succumbing to the inevitable. Once she confirmed that Voldemort was dead, Hermione turned to Harry. 

“Harry… I owe you an explanation.” Hermione took advantage of the fact that everyone else was still knocked out and the Ministry Officials hadn’t arrived yet. She explained everything. The future Battle of Hogwarts. Her time traveling. Taking his place for the Third Task. Pretending to be Professor Westminster. Him being a Horcrux and the cage they implanted in his mind to trap the bit of Voldemort’s soul. To his credit, Harry just listened with wide eyes and didn’t interrupt her once, possibly for the first time in his life.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you know that everything I did was to protect you and keep you safe. I couldn’t lose you again.” 

Harry nodded slowly as she finished her long explanation. “Well, I won’t lie. I’m right pissed that you didn’t tell me and you’ve been lying to me for the last two years... “

Hermione nodded sadly as her chest constricted, tears welling up in her eyes.

“But I get why you did it and I don’t blame you for any of it. I’d do the same if I were in your shoes. Besides, if you told me, then Voldemort would have figured it all out when he was poking around in my brain...” 

“True, you’re absolute rubbish at Occlumency.” Hermione chuckled awkwardly, then exhaled in relief and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. She was unable to form words, too overwhelmed by everything she was feeling. She sobbed quietly into his shoulder, finally unburdened by the weight of all of her secrets.

Harry hugged her back, patiently waiting. He pulled away when he felt her tears subsiding, “So… what now?” 

“Honestly? I have no idea. Things are so different now and I have no idea what happens next.”

“Yeah, but that’s life. That’s how it normally is for us, right? Not knowing…”

“You’re right. That is life. And now that I’ve got the chance, I fully intend to live it."

Harry smiled and gently punched her in the shoulder “That’s the Hermione Granger I know. Come on, let’s wake up the others.”

Hermione nodded “Yeah, I’ve got to get Fleur out of here. Can you please tell the others not to mention us?”

“Why not? You guys were the real heroes here!”

“Eh, never been all that interested in fame and glory… besides, if anyone sees her in this form then she’ll have to register as a magical creature. It’s for her protection.”

Harry nodded solemnly “No problem. Your secrets are safe with me. So, I guess I’ll see you at school then? Are you gonna give me detention for leaving school grounds?”

Hermione rolled her eyes “I’ll leave that up to Dumbledore.” She pulled him into another hug. “But no, I think Professor Westminster has somewhere else to be for the rest of term.”

“Oh yeah? Where will you go?”

“Fleur and I will go to France so we have an alibi. Besides, we could both use a vacation. You'll be fine. You have Sirius and the others. I love you, Harry Potter, I couldn't have asked for a better man for a brother.”

“Love you, too, Hermione. Thanks for everything. I really wouldn’t be alive without you.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m dead serious, too. Don’t mention it.” Hermione laughed as she went over to revive Fleur. With the turn of a heel, she and the Veela Disapparated away to safety, leaving Harry standing alone in the destroyed lobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, I hope that was worth the wait... So we're down to the end... if there's anything you'd like to see, please send me a request for a Bonus Chapter!


	43. Epilogue

Hermione leaned against the railing of Fleur’s balcony, enjoying the peaceful morning as the sun began to rise over the Delacour Estate. 

“You’re up early, mon amour. Something on your mind?” 

She closed her eyes and hummed quietly as slender arms snaked around her waist, holding her tight. Hot breath tickled her skin as delicate lips kissed a trail up the side of her neck. She leaned back, pressing herself flush against her mate, her head resting against Fleur’s shoulder. 

Historically, Fleur wasn’t much of a morning person but it seemed that months of living in the Room of Requirement without the sun telling her the time of day had thrown off her sleep schedule. 

“Not really.”

“‘Ermione.” Fleur’s tone was light and playful but Hermione didn’t miss the warning tone. Bond or no, the blonde had a knack for knowing when she was fibbing.

“I just… I can’t believe it’s over. I keep expecting to wake up and find that it’s all been a dream.”

“Oui, I understand that. But I assure you, this is no dream. We did it. We won.”

“Maybe for now, but there’s always something. The world is in a constant state of flux, an ebb and flow. So we saved the world from a tyrant hellbent on pure blood supremacy. It’s only a matter of time before something new pops up and threatens the peace, again. And I can’t help but wonder if we did the right thing. What if our actions have a ripple effect and we made it even worse in the end? If we did, we don’t get any do-overs to right our wrongs, not with the Time Turners and Dumbledore’s _Tempus Novus_ destroyed.”

“Mmm, mon amour, can we just savor the moment and reflect on the good? We stopped the darkest wizard since Grindelwald from rising to power and spreading terror and strife. You saved Harry and your friends. Because of us no one else will suffer at the hands of that mad witch or that horrid werewolf. Countless families are intact. Today children are waking up and having breakfast with their parents or getting ready for classes. They’re not cowering in hiding, worried they’ll be caught by a Death Eater or Snatcher. Hundreds, if not thousands, of lives were saved. Even if you are right and something new happens, we can meet this challenge and get through it together.”

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you?”

“Actually I’m a realist. But I’m just saying that you shouldn’t down talk what was accomplished.”

“Fine, I suppose you’re right.”

Fleur purred happily in her ear, “Mmm, say that again, please. I’ll never tire of hearing it.”

Hermione laughed and pulled away, turning to face the blonde beauty behind her. She leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to her lips instead. She couldn’t help feel a hint of jealousy at how perfect Fleur looked so soon after waking up, whereas she looked like a disheveled mess. Even in her silk robe in the pale dawn, Fleur looked positively radiant. Her hair perfectly smooth and unmussed, her crystal blue eyes twinkling brightly, a devilish smile playing at the corner of her mouth. 

Hermione’s mouth ran dry for a moment, her hand reached for the delicate chain hanging about her neck, fingertips idly playing with it. “You’re right. I should reflect on what this has taught me, not dwell on what ifs. If this experience taught me anything, it’s that time I’d precious and that I should seize the moment.”

A soft furrow creased Fleur’s forehead, her head cocked adorably to the side as she tried to follow her train of thought. Blue eyes widened as she watched the brunette sink to one knee before her.

“I know you wanted to do this, but my love I cannot wait. We crossed space and time to find one another. We have faced darkness beyond measure and came out the other side even stronger than before. I can’t bear another moment passing without telling you how I feel about you. I am so proud to be yours and for you to be mine and I want the world to know what you mean to me. You lift me up and inspire me. You keep me grounded and sane. You make me feel special. I want everyone to know that I love you with every fiber of my being, and will continue to do so for every moment of every day until my final breath.” Hermione had tried to plan out her speech earlier but once she was in the moment she got swept up in her feelings and started rambling. To stop herself from further word vomiting her emotions, she tugged the chain from her neck (she’d fix it later) and carefully picked up the final glowing ring. She did her best to still her trembling fingers as she lifted it up, presenting it to the blonde standing before her. “So for my final question… Fleur Isabelle Delacour, would you do me the extraordinary honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

Fleur was crying outright, not bothering to try to rein in her emotions like she usually did. Hot tears streaked down her pale cheeks as she nodded her head emphatically for a moment. Her Veela was absolutely beside itself with happiness. She was excitedly chattering nonsense in the back of her mind, making it very difficult for her to focus enough to speak. 

Hermione gazed up with hopeful eyes. She couldn’t hold back her own tears at seeing her mate so overwhelmed. Thankfully because of their bond she knew they were tears of pure happiness and joy otherwise she would have been worried. She waited patiently for Fleur to collect herself. 

“Oui, mon Dieu there is nothing I want more than to marry you!” Fleur managed between a hiccup. 

The bright pulsating light started to fade as Hermione slid the gold band onto Fleur’s ring finger, but both were filled with a light that no shadow could touch. Once the ring was in place, Hermione was on her feet and embracing her fiancé. Both women clung to one another as they kissed. There was nothing graceful about this kiss and neither could be bothered to notice. They were just desperate to show one another the depth of their feelings. It was wet and salty from their tears, it was punctuated by little sobs and hiccups. But it was perfect… 

Eventually Fleur pulled away, pressing their foreheads together, cupping Hermione’s jaw between slender fingers as she took several deep breaths to steady herself and calm down. “You have made me a very happy woman, ‘Ermione Granger. I think we must go to Paris immediately. I do not want your finger to be naked any longer.”

“We can find you a proper ring too. I know this one isn’t particularly elegant.”

“Non. It is perfect. It has a significance to us that no diamond could possibly convey. I would not change it for all the diamonds in the world.” 

Hermione smiled and gently brushed away Fleur’s tears with her thumbs. “Mmm, okay then. Will you shower with me and then we’ll go? When should we tell your parents?”

“After we get back. I think we should give Maman’s poor heart a little break, oui? We gave her a fright showing up last night unannounced.”

“Are you sure it was that or the fact that you were fully transformed? Or the fact that we looked like shit after fighting Voldemort? Or the fact that we finally came clean about being time travelers accidentally sent back to save the world?” Hermione grinned and nuzzled against Fleur’s neck. “She actually took that news very well, I feel better now that we aren’t lying to her.”

“Maybe a bit of all of that.” Fleur grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist and led her inside, getting the water started. 

Hermione held the blonde’s hand, touching the small metal band now adorning her left ring finger. “You mean everything to me, Fleur Delacour. Come what may, we’re in this together.”

“Together.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A week later and the Delacour mansion was in an absolute state of chaos. Things always got a little hectic when the entire family came over but even this was excessive. On a scale of one to ten, the energy level had been ratcheted up to a twelve. It was crazier than the time that Fleur and the twins ‘accidentally’ released live peacocks in the ballroom during the annual Delacour Gala. 

Apolline had arranged for a special dinner with their closest extended family so the girls could make their formal engagement announcement to their nearest and dearest. The moment the news dropped the room became a flurry as everyone flocked to offer their congratulations and express their happiness for the young couple.

She and Marcel stood to the side for fear of being trampled, observing the scene quietly. Of course she and her husband had been beside themselves with happiness and pride when Fleur and Hermione told them and showed off their rings. As a mother she couldn’t have been more excited for them both. It was something she had quietly hoped for her daughter since her childhood, to find a love that challenged and supported her and accepted her unconditionally. Hermione Granger was all that and more to Fleur. The fact that they were true mates was just icing on the cake. 

Apolline watched with a soft, almost dreamy gaze in her eye as her sisters and their offspring fawned over the recently engaged couple. She felt full to bursting with love. She truly couldn’t ask for more. Maybe just that Gabrielle was lucky enough to find someone when the time came, but hopefully that was many, many years from now.

Everyone chattered excitedly, asking all sorts of questions ranging from completely innocent to prying. The noise kept escalating as everyone tried to be heard. It had become an indiscernible mix of English, French, and even Veela on occasion. They ‘took turns’ congratulating the happy couple: looking at the ring, holding Hermione’s hand, hugging them, offering pats on the back, even petting their faces. Veela were physically expressive creatures, after all, touch was how they showed love. 

Both women took everything in stride, handling it with grace and ease. After a few moments the room calmed and everyone reined in their excitement. At least enough for everyone to sit politely in the parlor and carry on a civil conversation.

Once the hour grew late, the young couple took their leave, cringing slightly when the cousins heckled them lovingly, whistling and cheering. Gabrielle even piped in with a “Don’t forget your silencing charms. I don’t want to hear my future niece or nephew being made.” Much to Hermione’s embarrassment, Apolline provided another vial of pink potion at that reminder. Both women were beet red and all but running by the time they made it to the parlor door.

The rest of the room fell into quiet, casual conversation, discussing future plans. They planned to formally announce the engagement to the rest of the Clan at the upcoming Delacour Gala, which took place every year on New Year’s Eve. It would be an exciting Gala for sure, especially because Fleur had not attended the last two. The first was missed because of the Triwizard Tournament and then the attack that happened weeks before the most recent one. Her absence had been noticed and she was sorely missed, so everyone would be eager again, and of course meet her new fiancé. 

But as excited as she was to make the engagement announcement, Apolline would be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling slightly apprehensive for the upcoming Ball, even though it was over six months away. She knew that it would probably come as a shock to many of the Clan members in attendance, seeing Fleur and her scars, and she wasn’t sure how they would react at first. She knew that in person everyone would be polite, but it was likely to cause some whispers. Veela prided themselves on appearance and typically scars were considered taboo, moreso among the older generation.

Truthfully, it had been a little jarring to her at first. They had told her about what happened right after the attack, but it was different to hear about it and actually see it in person. At first her heart burned with sorrow and she wept as she looked upon the long lines running the length of her daughter’s face. But then they told her about everything they had overcome over the past two years, and even in the previous timeline, and it filled her with pride. Honestly she wasn’t sure she would have had the nerve or resolve to do what they had done. The pair were stronger than she ever realized and she knew that the future of the Clan was in more than capable hands. 

Once she heard the full story, it made perfect sense to her why Fleur chose to display them rather than illusion them away. And once they heard the truth, the rest of the Clan would understand as well. 

By now the news of Voldemort’s return and downfall had taken the Wizarding world by storm. Everything had been credited to Harry Potter and the mysterious Order of the Phoenix. Even though the two women weren’t mentioned by name in the papers, they knew the truth of the situation and word would pass quietly through the Clan. Besides, it was the way of the Veela to operate in secret like this. They didn’t need or want the fame, glory or attention. 

She knew that once the other Clan members understood Fleur and Hermione’s contributions, at least at surface level, they would get over Fleur’s appearance and see Fleur as a tried and tested leader. Willing to do whatever necessary to ensure their safety and they would respect her even more for it. It was actually perfect, it would further cement their faith in her as Heir Apparent of the Clan. And seeing her with her future wife would ease nerves about the continuation of the alpha line. Even before her ascension to her position as Clan Head, Fleur was proving herself a wise and capable leader, which would make the transition much easier when the time came. 

Another bit of news that was causing a huge stir was the unveiling of the cover up scandal within the British Ministry of Magic. It seemed that Fudge was not only aware of Voldemort’s return but had been actively hiding information about the Death Eaters and Voldemort’s activity, keeping it out of the _Daily Prophet_. He had been immediately removed from office and was awaiting trial. In the interim, Kingsley Shacklebolt was instated as acting Minister of Magic until a formal vote could take place. She had crossed paths with Shacklebolt a few times in her career and knew that he was a fair and levelheaded man. If he became the next Minister of Magic for Great Britain, there was hope for some real change and reform. Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up. But at the same time, she wouldn’t hold her breath. She would just have to wait and see what came next.

With a final sweeping glance around the room, Apolline excused herself for the evening, eager to get some rest. She had a wedding to plan after all.

  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Mmm… and how is my beautiful wife this evening?” Fleur’s icy sapphires danced mirthfully as she carried two glasses of wine across the living room to join her mate on the couch.

Hermione was sitting, hunched over slightly as she looked at a leather bound photo album. Her slender fingers drifted across the pages, sometimes hovering or lightly touching the pictures with reverence. In the past few years she had matured and filled out, no longer the awkward teenager with untamable, bushy hair but a poised and elegant young woman.

“Can you believe it’s already been over two years since we got married? Where did the time go?” Soft brown eyes looked up from the page, tears of nostalgia filled their corners.

“Mostly traveling around the world, experiencing life, and then settling down here.” Fleur deadpanned as she set Hermione’s wine on the end table before settling down next to her. She curled her feet up underneath her bum and cuddled close so she could follow along in the book.

“I still can’t believe you bought us an entire beach and had this cottage built!” 

“What? It’s like you don’t even know me! It’s a privilege for me to spoil you and I fully intend to do so every chance I get for the rest of our lives! And this shouldn’t come as a shock to you, I already saw this future for us, I’m just making good on it. As far as the private beach is concerned, it may have been a little over the top, but we have earned the right to a bit of privacy. And Spain is beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hermione sipped her wine and nuzzled against her with a contented sigh, “And you’re so very good at it. I’m still not used to it, being cared for like this.”

“Well, mon amour, you best work on that because it is not going to change any time soon.” Fleur countered with a loving smile. She turned her attention to the book in her wife’s lap, her smile growing as she studied the image. She was glad that their family had presented them with such a comprehensive and extensive album of the day, as most of it had been a blur that she couldn't remember most of it.

It was a Muggle picture, taken with Brian Granger’s tiny strange camera. The faces beamed up at her but were frozen in time. Her eyes watered as she looked at herself standing next to Hermione right after their wedding ceremony. They had both opted for simple yet elegant white satin gowns but she had never felt prettier. 

They were standing under an elaborate archway made from woven willow branches with all sorts of wildflowers tucked into it. Her grandmother stood just behind them as she presented the newlyweds for the first time. 

They sat quietly as they finished looking through the album together, occasionally giggling at a particularly funny or fond memory. Like when Gabrielle was jumping around excitedly after catching Hermione’s bouquet and almost tripped into the fountain. Fleur had lorded that over her for a while. 

With a happy sigh they closed the book after the last page, leaning back on the couch snuggling as they finished their wine. Fleur absentmindedly ran her fingers over the leather cover, tracing the embossed golden script.

_Mmes. Fleur and Hermione Delacour_

_October 7, 1997_

Fleur’s eyes slipped shut and she started humming a Veela lullaby. She lost herself in the tune and barely registered that Hermione had spoken.

“What was that?”

“I said that song is beautiful and asked if you were practicing.”

“Practicing?” Fleur tilted her head, a subconscious response she had when confused. 

“For our future children… I was thinking. Now that we’re settled and all and have steady work. It might be something to consider. We’ve waited long enough that I don’t think it’s too soon. We’ve gotten to experience the things we wanted and now I want to experience what comes next.”

Fleur’s heart fluttered, scarcely believing her ears. “You… You are ready to start a family?”

Hermione nodded with a broad grin “Yes, but I have one condition… Despite what you saw in your dream, we are not naming our firstborn daughter Victoire.”

Fleur smirked and pouted playfully. “Hey! My Veela thought it was a good name! But I suppose you should get a say in the naming of our children.”

“I expect more than _just_ a say, you know. You did marry the loudmouth know-it-all of Hogwarts after all!” Hermione laughed softly, then squeaked as strong hands scooped her up off the couch and carried her to the bedroom.

  
  


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Fleur! Did you remember to pack the extra jumpers? You know how dreary London is this time of year!” Hermione’s slightly flustered voice rang down the hallway from the kitchen.

“Oui, mon amour, I even packed your Gryffindor jumper and matching scarf set. I know how you lions can be. I never understood ‘house pride’ or whatever you called it.” Fleur responded from the bedroom, emerging moments later shoving the enchanted suitcases into the pockets of her dark grey peacoat, then adjusted her burgundy scarf about her neck. 

“And you grabbed Monsieur Clip-Clop?” 

“Got him!” Fleur brandished the tiny grey hippogriff stuffed animal to emphasize her point. “I think I got all of the essentials and if we forgot anything we can always go to Diagon Alley. Besides, I have everything I need right here.” She snaked her arm around her wife’s waist, kissing the forehead of the tiny blonde, recently three-year old toddler balanced on the brunette’s hip.

Soft brown eyes danced up as tiny hands reached up to her, “Maman. Up!”

Fleur tilted her head and raised an eyebrow “Aurelia Rose…” she chided softly, “You know your manners.”

“Puh-leez?”

“D’accord.” Fleur lifted the child into her arms, handing her the stuffed animal. She held her daughter high so that the toddler’s elbows were propped up on her shoulder. She knew the tiny Veela was fascinated by her hair and allowed her to play with it.

“Well, we know where she got her sassiness. No question she’s your daughter. She has you absolutely wrapped around her tiny fingers!” Hermione laughed, straightening her shirt and grabbing her jacket. “Are you lovely ladies ready to go?”

Aurelia babbled happily, her stuffed animal clutched in one hand, a wad of silvery blonde hair in the other.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Fleur laughed and reached to take her wife’s hand as they stepped over to the hearth. “If you would, mon amour.”

“Of course,” Hermione grabbed a generous handful of Floo powder. Due to her work with political affairs, their home was registered as an international Floo so she could travel abroad as needed. It was much easier than trying to arrange for Portkeys. Much more pleasant, too.

“Okay, mon trésor, deep breath.” Fleur bounced Aurelia gently in her arms. 

“Oui, Maman,” the toddler complied without fuss, inflating her cheeks like a chipmunk and screwing her eyes tightly shut. 

Fleur had to hold in her ‘aww’ at her daughter’s adorableness, lest she inhale ash. She was unaware that her wife was laughing internally at the fact that both blondes were pulling the same face.

“12 Grimmauld Place!” Hermione spoke loud and clear, throwing the powder at the grate.

“Fleur, Hermione! You made it!” Harry came rushing to greet them as soon as the small family stepped out of the fireplace, giving Hermione a strong hug. He had finally filled out once he escaped living with the Dursleys. “And you…” Harry booped the tiny blonde toddler on the nose, making her squeal with delight. “Uncle Harry wants to see you!”

“Bonjour, Harry.” Fleur greeted him with a customary air kiss on each cheek before she relinquished her hold on Aurelia and passed her over. 

By now the child was used to the inevitable game of ‘hot potato with the baby’ that happened at every gathering. Good thing she was a little primadonna who loved the attention and she didn’t seem to mind getting passed around. She only got fussy when she got set down, which never happened. Especially when Molly Weasley was in attendance. 

Hermione laughed softly as she watched the raven-haired young man wander off with her daughter. He was playing with Monsieur Clip-Clop, pretending the small hippogriff was flying along next to them, no doubt telling her about Buckbeak. She would have never guessed he would be so good with kids, considering his upbringing. She wondered if he and Evangeline were planning on tying the knot any time soon. The pair had reconnected after Harry graduated Hogwarts and moved to London for Auror training. The brunette Veela was still working at St. Mungo's as assistant Head Healer.

The young Delacours moved from room to room as they tried to find the hosts, greeting family and friends along the way. 

The once dusty and dreary Black house had been completely renovated and looked nothing like it had before. Kreacher and Dobby both loyally served the house as paid employees and kept it in tip top shape. Dark tapestries had been replaced by bright paintings and art. Dim light fixtures had been replaced by beautiful chandeliers and lamps. Everything was bright and warm. It was a home, full of love and happiness. 

The house was packed with family and friends and was decked floor to ceiling in Christmas decor. Garlands covered the walls and banisters, large icicles and snowflake decorations hung from the ceiling. A fleet of tiny bewitched snitches zoomed around and periodically released glitter on unsuspecting houseguests. 

They found Sirius and Lupin in the parlor, talking with Moody, McGonagall and Kingsley. Even Snape had made an appearance and the school rivals were managing to control their sneers and jibes at each other. Everyone looked to be in good health as they stood about laughing occasionally. Even the werewolf looked more lively than Hermione had ever seen him before, the dark shadows under his eyes that were practically his trademarked look had all but disappeared. But the most drastic change was with Sirius. He was almost unrecognizable.

After 15 years in Azkaban and on the run, Sirius had finally been given the trial he had never received and was pardoned shortly after Kingsley was sworn in as the new Minister of Magic. Like his home, he had undergone a total transformation. When he had once been a hollow shell of a man, now he was the life of the party. He looked happy and healthy, and ruggedly handsome, his dark hair flowed in gentle waves about his face. His eyes no longer dark and dead, a bright spark burning deep within. 

Sirius and Lupin had gotten married shortly after the trial concluded. The two had officially adopted Harry for his final years as a minor, getting him away from the horrid Dursleys and finally giving him the loving family he desperately craved. He had moved out once he graduated Auror training and had taken a flat with Evangeline in London.

“Greetings, we don’t mean to interrupt. We just wanted to thank our hosts for throwing this wonderful party.” Fleur smiled and offered a case of Spanish wine they had brought as a house gift.

The older Order members gave the young women soft, knowing smiles. Though they never spoke of their involvement at the Battle at the Ministry, they all knew who really tipped the scales and won the war before it started.

“No need for formalities, Fleur. We’re all friends here.” McGonagall said warmly, her usually stern demeanor was apparently reserved for the walls of Hogwarts.

“Fleur, Hermione! So glad you made it!” Sirius wrapped his arms around them, hugging them simultaneously. Hermione’s testimony had been the one that really sealed the deal for his freedom, something he would not soon forget.

“Great to see you, Sirius. Remus.” Hermione beamed as he moved away and his husband moved in for a hug, albeit slightly more reserved.

“Did you just get in?” Sirius looked between them, surprised to see them childless.

“Harry has her.” Fleur chuckled, reading his expression.

“Ah, well, I must go find my godson immediately! Please make yourselves at home and enjoy yourselves.”

They caught up with the group of adults, sans Sirius, for a while before quickly making their way back through the main house to see who else was in attendance. Hermione’s inquisitive eyes flitted around the rooms as they moved through. 

The Grangers were standing in the corner with Arthur Weasley, talking animatedly on all things Muggle. Hermione had recommended they bring him some trinkets for his collection. She laughed when Jean held up a manual egg beater and demonstrated how to use it. The Weasley patriarch looked like a child at Honeydukes, his eyes wide with wonder as the blades spun. She had never thought she would have this. It meant everything to her to have the chance for her parents to be a part of her adult life. Hermione made a note to come back and greet her parents when they finished their rounds.

Luna and Ginny were sitting on the couch talking with the Patil twins and Lavender Brown. Ginny was sporting a new ring with what appeared to be a honeybee on it. Classic Luna. Nothing about the eccentric Ravenclaw was conventional and honestly, she couldn’t imagine it any differently. Hermione quietly wondered if it was an engagement ring or just a promise. But regardless, the two looked so comfortable and at peace, their fingers interlocked. Neither were ones to care about labels anyway. They had happiness, so what else mattered? 

They found Evangeline, Harry, and Sirius in the kitchen, cooing over Aurelia. The toddler was perched happily in the arms of Molly Weasley, watching the adults with wide eyes as they each took turns offering her various treats. Monsieur Clip-Clop sat on the counter, long forgotten in the presence of pumpkin pasties and cauldron cakes. Fleur murmured something about her disapproval of them spoiling Aurelia rotten. Hermione knew that it was just her jealousy talking and she wished that she was the one doting on her daughter like that. But secretly she loved that everyone adored her daughter, that much was clear in her bright cerulean eyes.

The Weasley Twins were laughing merrily as they dished out the eggnog and punch, likely spiked. There was a pack of Gryffindors, consisting of Ron, Seamus, Neville, Dean, Angelina, and a few boys from Ginny’s year that she didn’t recognize, standing about near the drinks table. The group was singing rowdy carols with rude lyrics, clearly the alcohol had already gone to their heads a bit.

“Would you like a drink, mon coeur?” 

“Oh, no thank you… Knowing the Twins, they’ve likely added copious amounts of alcohol and I’m not really feeling up to drinking.” Hermione dismissed the offer with the wave of her hand. Fleur shrugged and poured herself a glass of wine. One from the case they had given as a host gift. That was one of the benefits of giving wine as a house gift. It usually got opened soon after the gifting.

The fireplace roared to life again and an impeccably dressed young woman stepped out. “Ze party ‘as arrived, bitches!”

“GABRIELLE!” 

“What, Fleur? We are all adults ‘ere, non?” The blonde battered her eyes innocently. She was completely impervious to Apolline’s withering glare by now and her older sister had nothing on their mother, try as she might.

“ _You_ aren’t even an adult!” Fleur chided.

“Bah! Unimportant details! My 18th birthday is in two weeks!”

“You still aren’t an adult yet. Besides, you should be setting a good example for your niece!”

“Yes, _Maman_ …” Gabrielle rolled her eyes, her voice dripping sarcasm.

Hermione stifled a laugh as she embraced her sister-in-law, before taking a seat on the couch. She knew that it was best to keep to herself when the Delacour sisters went at it.

While the two blondes argued, unknowingly slipping back into their native language, Hermione took the opportunity to give the room another sweeping glance. 

Everywhere she looked there were familiar faces, all chattering merrily together, and it warmed her heart beyond measure. Seeing the positive domino effect and the brighter futures their loved ones now could enjoy or explore because of their actions. Even if no one was aware of it, the smiles and love that filled the house made everything that she and Fleur had endured worth it. It was everything she could have ever wished for and more and she wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

She felt the couch sag and her wife’s arm around her waist. “We did this,” she murmured, still looking ahead. Her voice was so quiet it was barely audible over the roars of laughter floating through the room and halls.

“Oui, that we did.” Fleur hummed appreciatively.

“And we’ll be alright? Whatever comes next? We can take on together?”

“Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, we made it. I thank you so much for following this story to the end. It had its ups and downs but I hope it was as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write. It is an honor and privilege to be able to write fics like this and present them to the world.
> 
> For Aurelia Rose... Aurelia means golden (at least google says so) and Rose is well, a rose lol. So her name is an homage to the Golden Girl and her Flower...
> 
> And... while I have your attention. I have a little surprise for you. Here's a little teaser to the next big Fleurmione fic I'm working on: 
> 
> Cast Into Darkness  
> Hermione Granger had her whole life planned out and she was well on track to achieving her goals. Those plans change in an instant and she is plunged into a world that she never knew existed. She must quickly find her feet and forge a new path forward, carefully navigating a world of living myths and legends.  
> The friendships and alliances she develops along the way will help her through her trials as she learns to unlock her potential and become the woman she was born to be: the one to bring balance and order between the human and magical world.


End file.
